


Of Assassins and Warriors

by Fallenghost



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Almost Rape, Blood, Daelos doesn't knwo how to do feelings, Daelos is a kleptomaniac, Daelos like shiny things, Daelos needs a hug, Gen, He deserves all the hugs, I have no idea what I'm doing, Kusek can be a shameless flirt sometimes, Kusek doesn't know how to deal with him yet, M/M, Nightmares, Not really sure what to put here, Other, Past Torture, Violence, also almost setting people on fire, he can also be a bit clueless sometimes, he's terrible at it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:52:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenghost/pseuds/Fallenghost
Summary: Skyrim is a cold and dangerous place. Daelos is used to being on his own, not really letting people too close. On the outside he seems cold and distant, slow to trust. An assassin quick to pull a dagger to hand. But those who do manage to get past his frozen walls are witness to a very different person. One who is quick to use that bloody dagger to protect them at all cost.Kusek, a mercenary, wonders where he fits in this assassin's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Morndas, 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**The Silver-Blood Inn, Markarth**

 

Daelos sat in the Silver-Blood Inn, seemingly paying no mind to the other patrons. With his long, pointed ears, he could hear them talking about him. He heard the hushed whispers of the dangerous looking Bosmer with the strange armor, icy-blue eyes, and scarred face.

He motioned the barkeeper, Kleppr he thinks his name was, for another drink. Kleppr comes over, drink in hand, and sets a plate with some sort of meat and some stale bread down on the counter, grumbling about how he should eat something, too. He only wanted Daelos to spend more coin.

Ignoring the food, Daelos looked over the taproom once more. It was dark and gloomy, just as any tavern. It wasn't quite dark outside yet, so there weren't many people. It was a spacious place, made of stone and corundum by the Dwemer. The main bar made a U shape in the center of the room, which was where he was currently sitting with a perfect view of the of the whole tavern, the door to his right within easy access. There was a large hearth near the back of the room which provided most of the light. Several hallways branched off, leading to rooms with stone beds(rather uncomfortable if he had any say) that one could rent for the night.

His ear twitched again. The barkeeper and his wife were bickering again to his left. Apparently, she doesn't like the idea of such a dangerous looking character in her tavern, if her harsh whispers were of any inclination. Daelos looked over at the Nordic man who was sitting at the bar across from him, drunk and slumped over. From what Daelos had heard, he had supposedly received a raise from whatever job it was he had, and had decided to drink it away. A few guards were sitting at a table to his right, pointing and grinning at him suspiciously. Daelos's eyes narrowed, his ears pinning back. He fixed them with a frosty glare that had them quickly looking away. He would have to keep an eye on them. They were sure to start some sort of trouble.

There were a few other patrons lingering about as well. They were mostly sitting in the chairs around the hearth, listening to some sell-sword's wild tales, or were standing around, talking amongst themselves. One man in particular kept catching Daelos's eye. He stood off in a secluded corner, watching the others just as Daelos was. He was tall and well built, most likely a Nord. (Of course he was a Nord. This is Skyrim after all. The place was filled with them). He wore a cloak with a hood drawn low over his face, preventing Daelos from discerning his features. Armed with two swords, one at his hip and the other peeking over his shoulder, Daelos guessed he was a mercenary of some sorts judging from his appearance and the way he had been asking for work earlier that evening.

All of them, including the man, were keeping a healthy distance away from Daelos. Not that he minded, of course.

 

Unfortunately, none of them were his contact. An Imperial by the name of Aralas, that was who he was supposed to meet. This was supposed to be one of the more primary contracts, according to Astrid. A job that was supposed to be harder and pay better since he was supposed to meet the contact directly to receive instruction. But to him it was just another job among the Dark Brotherhood.

Daelos has been with the Dark Brotherhood since he had killed the man who had tried to turn him into a slave.

He had snapped. Even the injuries that had been inflicted on him at the time hadn't stopped him from ripping the man's throat out and slaughtering the rest of the caravan. He hadn't even realized what had happened until it was over. The cold rage that had filled him had slipped away, giving him reason again.

He knew he should have felt something then. Fear, maybe? Guilt or remorse for what he had done? Joy for being free once more? But he hadn't felt anything; only empty and numb. And later, as if by clockwork, a member of the Dark Brotherhood appeared before him.

 

* * *

 

**Three Years Ago, Saturalia's Eve**

**24th of Evening Star, 4E 198**

**Somewhere in the Skyrim Wilderness**

 

She was to find a Bosmer male who had supposedly murdered a whole caravan. Gabriella sighed dramatically, ignoring the strange looks other travelers gave her. Why must she go recruiting? It was terribly dull, and most of the time the would-be recruits weren't even sane, attacking her and ending up charred by her flames.

She sighed again, sulking. It was Saturalia! She should be at home, enjoying the celebrations and getting so drunk that she could hardly stand. But nooo, she had to go recruiting.

Oh well. She certainly didn't want to gain Astrid's ire for going against her. That fiery Nord was outright terrifying when she was angry.

 

Gabriella arrived at the destroyed caravan. She didn't know where the Bosmer went, so she thought that checking his last known location might give her a clue. But she hadn't been expecting this... It looked like a massacre; blood and corpses everywhere, red shining starkly against the glistening snow. The mer must have went on a rampage.

She found him a little ways into the forest. And he looked as wild as the humans usually describe their kind. He was covered in blood, and his clothes, what little he had, were ragged and torn, hanging off his too thin frame. He attacked her without warning, plunging a blood-soaked blade towards her throat.

He was injured, she noted, and she used that against him. She grabbed his blade arm, knocking the dagger from his hand, and sent a kick to a gash on his leg. Sending him to the ground, she pinned him to the forest floor, the other mer grunting on pain.

"Easy, Brother. I do not wish to harm you. I represent the Dark Brotherhood. I have come with an offer." His breathing was still ragged, but he stilled his struggles beneath her. He looked up at her, his blue eyes filling with ice, replacing the wildness from before. Seeing the change, Gabriella slowly eased off and away from him. One shouldn't corner an injured wolf after all.

"Have you calmed down, Little Wolf?" she crooned to him.

"Wh-who are you?" he asked hoarsely, a hand going up to his throat. Gabriella looked at his face and neck and grew angry at what she saw.

His neck was ringed in dark bruises, as if someone had tried to strangle him, a fresh scar peeking out from under the blue and purple skin. The left side of his face was carved in a deep myriad of cuts, dark blood dripping down onto the white snow. Then she realized that most of the blood on him was coming from the Bosmer himself; from the lash marks of a whip across his back, the cuts on his face, and the various other injuries that littered his body.

Her eyes widened in rage when she realized just what that caravan had been for. Slavers. A spark of dark delight grew in her as she thought of how they died; at the mercy of this little Bosmer.

"I am known as Gabriella," she said softly as she removed her hood, revealing her own pointed ears, red eyes, and gray skin. "And, as I have said, I am from the Dark Brotherhood, and I have come to you with an offer."

"What sort of offer?" was the Bosmer's gruff response. He glared at her darkly.

Gabriella smiled. There was a fire in his eyes, one that she had never seen from any other she had ever been sent to gather.  She had no doubt, that if the other mer hadn't been so injured, it would have been her who would have been on the ground, that cold, bloody dagger pressed to  _her_ throat.

She looked straight into the Bosmer's strange blue eyes, spreading her arms, "To join the Dark Brotherhood."

 

* * *

 

**Prese** **nt Day**

 

Kusek looked up from underneath the shadows of his hood when he heard more whispers. Apparently, the little wood elf sitting at the bar was the talk of the night. He looked back over at the elf who was watching him again. He was watching everything, every little move that anyone made gained the interest of the blue-eyed elf. He didn't look all that threatening to Kusek, besides looking like a bit of a thief, but then again, that could have just been the way he was. Thief or not, all nonhumans seemed like thieves to the humans. Kusek just made sure to remember to keep a hand on his belongings.

He looked away from Kusek when the guards in the corner made a loud commotion. The elf had apparently gained their attention, too. Kusek smirked when the elf bared his teeth at them, his ears twitching in annoyance. Ballsy, that one.

The elf stood up, since it looked like the barkeep had asked him to leave, and made his way out, only to have one of the guards block his path. Kusek put a hand on the hilt of his sword when the tension in the room suddenly skyrocketed. _Uh oh, this doesn't look good._

Thankfully though, it didn't look like a brawl was going to start, and end up with someone getting arrested, or shanked, when the elf continued out the door. Kusek looked at the guard captain, the one who was trying to start trouble. The man was an ass. Kusek had found that out when he had first entered the city, only to see a Forsworn murder a woman right in front of him, and have the captain threaten _him_ to not start any trouble. _Hypocrite,_ Kusek thought.

He watched as the captain gestured to his companions and left the tavern after the elf. Kusek frowned and headed after them, dropping a few coins on the bar as he passed, the barkeeper calling after him to wait. He didn't listen. He was too busy imagining a certain little dark-haired elf laying bloodless in a dark alleyway, cloudy blue eyes staring sightless at the night sky. He was tired of seeing such scenes.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Morndas, 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**The Silver-Blood Inn, Markarth**

 

Daelos looked up at the door. More off-duty guardsmen were starting to come in and were starting to get rowdy. He could tell that they were talking about him, what with the way they kept looking him over. Damn Nords would pick on whoever they think is weaker than them. The smaller races like the Bosmer or the Dunmer, or the beast races like the Argonians and the Khajiit. Just about anyone who wasn't a Nord was fair game for their racist actions.

The barkeeper approached him again. At least the Bretons were a bit kinder, for humans that is. "It might be safer for you to leave, little elf. With the way those guards are looking at you..." he trailed off, looking over warily.

"I am waiting for someone. I will wait a little while longer. I thank you for your warning," Daelos said politely.

"V-very well," Kleppr said nervously, handing Daelos another cup of ale without his asking.

Daelos knew that he should stay, for his contact had yet to show, but the guards were starting to cause a ruckus over in their little corner and were starting to get out of hand. They were still talking about him, Daelos could hear the crude comments that were directed towards him. One of them was even staring openly at him.

Daelos was aware of how he looked. A lone Bosmer sitting in a tavern almost screamed 'look at me.' Anytime he had ever entered a city, (and actually allowed people to see him) most people avoided him like the plague. Most people looked at him and saw a thief, nothing but a lowly vagrant. (Which wasn't far from the truth considering what he was and what he did.) He was aware that his appearance was somewhat intimidating, with his scarred face and dark attire, which surely didn't help with the stigma. But there were always those few who saw him and thought that they could take advantage of him, who didn't see him as a threat, but just some 'little elf' that was easy pickings, bigots who thought that they were above others and could do whatever they wanted. That usually meant their end. Especially when they attacked him and ended up with a knife between their ribs. Daelos usually tried to avoid conflict, but he would defend himself.

 _Maybe it would be wise for me to leave. Before they do decide to start something,_ Daelos thought, frowning when the group in the corner made another loud commotion. He stood, pulling his hood up over his head. He left a few coins on the bar before turning to leave.

The guards were watching his every move. Daelos leveled them with an icy glare, his blue eyes turning almost silver. Most people, it would make them squirm being faced with such a look, and most of them at the table did. But the biggest of the group, and the ugliest, merely smirked at him, revealing yellow, jagged teeth. Daelos frowned again, the scar on the left side of his face twisting slightly, and continued on to the door.

He made it halfway across the room before the big Nord stepped into his path. He moved close enough to Daelos that nose burned from his stench. He was trying to use his larger size to intimidate him, but Daelos didn't yield. He'd been faced with much more intimidating sights before, after all. Instead, he glared up at him with ice filled eyes.

"Ye better watch y'self in my city, little savage. Or I might 'ave to take care of ye myself," the Nord threatened. He leaned forward, trying to look under the shadows of Daelos's hood, not that he could see much except for his eyes, which glowed eerily in the dim light of the tavern. Daelos growled lowly, his own threat clear.

As the Nord took a step towards him, a blade flicked open from Daelos's vambrace. The Nord didn't notice it, but the Breton did.

"If you're going to fight, take it out of my tavern! Or I'll go to the Jarl!" Kleppr interrupted, fear clearly etched on his face.

"Right. Of course. Sorry, barkeep," the Nord said, clearly not sorry at all. He looked Daelos up and down one more time before stepping out of his way. Daelos shoved past the Nord, giving him another sharp glare, making his way out the door.

 

As Daelos left the inn, he entered an alley to try and stay in the shadows. He realized his mistake when a few guards appeared at the end of the walkway, behind him another along with the big Nord from before. Daelos didn't turn, but he could sense the Nord approaching him. He sighed. He should have known that they wouldn't have left him alone.

“Ye sure are a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” the Nord said from behind him. Daelos turned towards him, a deep warning growl pulling back his lips. “And spirited too, it seems! Guess we’ll ‘ave to remedy that, eh, boys?”

The other guards chuckled. Both groups started to approach him. Daelos focused on not panicking and tried to find a way to escape. It would be difficult to get past them. The walls were too high, the alleyway too narrow, and there weren’t enough handholds for him to try and climb. He might be able to handle the other guards, but the big Nord would most likely be a problem. Daelos didn’t want to have to resort to killing them. It would bring too much unwanted attention to himself, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with a bounty right now.

The Nord made a move against him, and Daelos moved to counter. One of the other guards took that moment to grab him from behind, and before he could react, a second grabbed his arms, forcing them behind him. The Nord hit him square in the stomach. His armor dulled any real damage, but the force of the blow still knocked the air from Daelos’s lungs, making him double over, gasping for air.

The Nord was preparing another attack when Daelos elbowed the first guard in the face, knocking him back and bloodying his nose. He would have been able to shake off the other as well, but the Nord grabbed him by his scarf and threw him against the wall. He used his superior size and weight to effectively pin Daelos against it.

“I would ’ave been nice if you’d ‘ave cooperated.” The Nord tightened his grip around Daelos’s neck. He let out a choked sound, his lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines. The Nord leaned forward, whispering harshly in his ear. “But I think I’ll put ye in yer place.”

Using his free hand, the Nord started to unbuckle the straps on Daelos’s armor, easily overpowering the struggling mer. He pulled back with a hiss when he nicked himself trying to remove one of the many daggers hidden on Daelos’s person. While he was distracted, Daelos flicked open the blade from his vambrace, planning to slip it between the man’s ribs. The Nord grabbed his wrist and slammed it into the wall above his head.

“Looks like ye gots all kinds ‘a sharp things on ye, eh knife-ear?” He spun Daelos around so that his front pressed against the wall, his arms pinned behind his back. To keep from stabbing himself, Daelos released the mechanism that pressed against his wrist, the blade snapping back into the vambrace.

Pinning his wrists together with one hand, the Nord continued to unbuckle his armor. He unstrapped his cloak and weapons belt, letting them clatter to the ground, and pressed his body into Daelos's, crushing him against the wall. He ignores Daelos's struggling and snarling protests, running a hand up his slowly revealing torso.

Daelos locked up, old memories resurfacing to the front of his mind of rough hands roaming over his body, hands that inflicted nothing but pain. He gasped, panic swarming through him. _No._ He couldn't allow his panic to consume him now. He couldn't let this happen. Not again. He had to get away. _Now!_

He jerked hard against the Nord, nearly dislodging him, but his small victory was short lived. The Nord jerked his hood back, wrenching his neck back painfully, and slammed his head into the wall, stunning him briefly. Blood started to dribble down his face, the rough stone wall cutting sharply into his skin.

Daelos let out another snarling growl as black spots flowed through his vision, sounding more and more feral as his fear started to grow, squirming unsuccessfully once more to try and get away. Just when what he was fearing to happen looked like it was going to become more of a reality, a new figure entered the alley.

“To think that you guards, who're supposed to protect people from these kinds of things, are the one’s taking part in it,” said the newcomer. Daelos’s eyes widened when he recognized him. He was one of the patrons from the tavern.

Loosening his grip ever so slightly, the Nord responded, “Says a mercen’ry. Ye mercs’re just as bad as nonhumans, fillin’ our city with yer filth.” Daelos twisted in his grasp, looking over at the newcomer with a meaningful look. The man's blue eyes met his own from underneath his hood and he nodded. He had noticed the Nord's grip loosen as well.

“The only filth I see here're you guards,” he provoked. “Attacking a man that has done you no harm. You should be ashamed to call yourself a Nord!”

Falling for the taunt, the Nord loosened his grip further. Just enough for Daelos, who had remained still up until now, to twist his wrist, the blade shooting through the man’s arm. Yelping in pain, the Nord released him. The newcomer engaged the other guards, sword drawn and swinging in deadly arcs. Daelos, now free, lunged at the Nord, tackling him to the ground and sending his blade through the man’s eye.

“So much for not killing anyone,” Daelos grumbled bitterly.

The newcomer, having finished with the other guards, gestured for Daelos to follow him. He complied, gathering his gear from the ground. Having heard the commotion, some of the locals had called for more guards. Turning a corner, the man jerked Daelos into a gap in the wall, the guards continuing forward.

Daelos took this opportunity to put his clothes back into some kind of order. His hands shook slightly as he re-buttoned his vest and retied the laces holding his climbing harness. He jumped when the man chuckled, realizing just how close together they stood. He just barely met the man’s shoulder. He jerked away from him, giving him a wary look. The man kept his distance.

“Close call, eh, little elf?” the man said, pulling down his hood and finally showing his face, revealing pale skin and messy red hair. Daelos growled at that comment, causing the man to chuckle again. At least it was better than some of the other things the humans usually called him. “Let’s say we get off the streets, eh? I know a place we could lay low for a while.”

Daelos hesitated a moment before following him. He didn’t know if it was such a good idea to follow the man. He knew he should hightail it out of the city, but with the guards at such a high alert after finding a few of their own killed, he knew he wouldn’t make it out tonight. He sighed. He figured if worst came to worst, he could handle a single Nord.

 

* * *

 

The elf had decided to follow Kusek to the lowest levels of the city, much to his surprise. When they entered an underground building, the first thing that hit him was the smell. They were in the warrens. The elf gave him a criticizing look, arching a slender eyebrow. Kusek just shrugged his shoulders and entered.

“The guards won’t come looking here,” he said by way of explanation.

They headed towards the back of the rundown building and entered an isolated room away from the other inhabitants. There wasn’t much in the way of furnishing, but the elf didn’t comment on it.

“Now,” Kusek said, making the elf flinch. “I don’t believe that we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Kusek.”

“…Daelos,” the elf said after a few moments. He was still tense, clearly still on edge.

“Daelos,” Kusek repeated, seeing how the name sounded on his tongue. He decided that he quite liked it. “May I ask what happened in that alley, Daelos?” He regretted asking that when the elf visibly recoiled.

“What did it look like? Your _kinsmen_ were trying to rape me!” he snarled, baring sharp canines.

“I’m sorry. I don’t take pride in calling _that_ my kinsmen. It’s a shame that some of my people act that way.” Kusek watched as Daelos paced the room, looking very much like a caged wolf. His shoulders were hunched as he stalked silently back and forth in the small room. His ears were pinned back, and his eyes were narrowed, giving him an almost dangerous look. Kusek was kind of worried that the elf might attack him.

“Mhm.”

Kusek knew he was pushing, but he asked anyway, “What happened, though? You look like someone who can handle himself pretty well.” He had seen how the elf had tackled the captain to the ground. He was rather unnerved at how easily he had taken down a man at least twice his size after he had been released.

“They outnumbered and overpowered me,” Daelos growled again in annoyance, continuing to pace. He leveled Kusek with his icy glare.

“I see.” Kusek raised his hands in an innocent gesture and gave the elf what he hoped was a kind smile.

Daelos just glowered at him. Losing steam, he slumped against the wall opposite of Kusek. He rubbed his face with his hands, smearing blood across his cheek.

“Are you alright?” Kusek asked, concerned, taking in the way his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. His clothes were still in disarray, his cloak, and bow and quiver discarded on the floor beside him. And…Was he shaking? Kusek wished he would have gotten to them sooner.

“I think so,” was the muffled response. His voice wavered ever so slightly.

“Why are you here in Markarth?” Kusek asked, hoping to distract the elf. Daelos looked up at him. He didn’t like seeing the distant look in his eyes, like he was seeing something that Kusek couldn’t. Now that he could clearly see his face, he noticed the gruesome scar that curved from his left cheek to the corner of his lips and down the side of his jaw. He wondered how he got it, but he knew he shouldn’t ask. Not yet, anyway.

“Business.”

“Clearly. What kind of business, if you don’t mind my asking?” Daelos stared at him blankly for a moment before looking down again. Kusek expected him to just ignore him, but he didn’t, much to his delight.

“I was due to meet someone, but…they did not show.”

“Ah, I see. And I suppose that’s all you’ll give me, eh?” Kusek said with a small smile when he saw the wariness in Daelos’s eyes.

“Mhm.”

“You’re quite the suspicious creature, aren’t you?” He just couldn’t help himself. He enjoyed hearing the elf’s voice. He spoke in a way that he’d never heard before, and his voice was surprisingly deep for someone so slight.

The elf’s eyebrow twitched at the comment. “It has served me well…Until today, it seems."

“So it seems,” Kusek said with a warm smile, which earned him a small twitch curling at the corner of Daelos’s lips. His smile grew into a grin. “We should get some rest, Daelos. We’ll need to be out of the city before dawn.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Tirdas, 18th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Outskirts of Markarth**

 

They left Markarth just before sunrise, slipping through the waterway at the mines without any trouble. Daelos agreed to traveling to Falkreath together since Kusek was also headed that way. Kusek didn't let Daelos's quietness get to him, managing to keep up a conversation with him the only one really committing to it. Daelos responded when he saw fit.

Listening to the Nord chat eagerly with himself, he couldn't help but take a liking to him. He wasn't as self-righteous and racist as most other Nords. And he didn't seem to have a problem with Daelos being a Bosmer, one of the least liked races.

As the Nord continued to chat with himself, Daelos looked to the vast Skyrim terrain. The land was as harsh as it was beautiful. And the beasts that roamed it even harsher. It was warmer today than it had been in a while, but it was still quite chilly. He shifted his scarf a bit higher around his neck and watched as a giant led its mammoths several yards away, the giant keeping a wary eye on the human and mer. It would leave them alone so long as they left it and its mammoths be, Daelos decided. He distantly heard Kusek mention something about them.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Kusek asked, now addressing Daelos. He just shook his head.

"Shame, you have such a lovely voice."

Daelos, his steps faltering slightly, stared at the Nord in shock. Said Nord laughed at the shock on the mer's face.

"And you're rather cute when you blush."

Now embarrassed, Daelos shoved past the Nord, earning another hearty laugh. He felt a small smile grace his lips, unseen to Kusek.

He had this strange feeling and he couldn't understand what it was, it was like a strange, unfamiliar warmth that curled in his chest. He frowned. He shouldn't let the Nord get this close to him, he even gave him his name for Nocturnal's sake. (Or at least the name he had chosen for himself.) He should have just left the Nord back at Markarth. Daelos could have slipped away and been a fair distance gone before Kusek had even realized it. He knew it would probably come back to bite him in the ass later, but for now he couldn't help it. He was different. Kind. And the gods knew that kindness was a rare thing in this world.

Daelos looked back at the Nord. He had the basic features of any Nord; his fair skin and dark blue eyes. His hair was a rusty red-brown that was constantly getting in his eyes. He was tall and broad shouldered; a warrior.

When he noticed Daelos staring at him, Kusek gave him another broad grin. Embarrassed for being caught, Daelos ducked his face into his scarf. He was getting that strange feeling again. He tried to walk faster to try and hide his reddening face, but the taller Nord had no trouble keeping up with him.

 

* * *

 

As they continued on in silence, Kusek looked over at Daelos. He looked a lot better than he had the night before, he didn't look as ragged and drained. But...he was strange looking for a Bosmer. Kusek has encountered many Bosmer over his last few years of adventuring, and none of them have looked quite like Daelos.

He wore his hood down, which Kusek was happy for since he could see the elf's face. He could only describe him as beautiful, in a scary, intimidating kind of way, with his sharp features framed by unruly ink-black hair that was pulled back into a long, slightly messy braid, and even sharper silvery-blue eyes ringed with dark kohl.

And the scar on his face...it covered the whole left side of his face in jagged marks. Kusek also noticed a scar peeking up from underneath his scarf, as if someone had tried to cut the elf's throat, but failed to do the job. Feeling his attention, Daelos looked at him, his eyes narrowing slightly in question.

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?" He gestured to his face.

"I do mind. And I would prefer not to say," Daelos said, looking away again.

"Okay." After seeing the flicker of pain cross the elf's face, Kusek quickly dropped the subject. They continued on in an awkward silence. (Or at least it felt that way to Kusek.)

After a while, Daelos once again felt Kusek's gaze upon him. He snapped at him in his native tongue.

"Huh? Oh, um... Sorry, didn't mean to stare." Did he upset him again? "It's just... I was curious about your eyes. They're such an unusual color for a Bosmer. Are they natural?" _Of course they're natural. They're his bloody eyes for Talos's sake. You can't just change the color of your eyes,_ Kusek mentally berated himself, feeling slightly stupid. He knew that he was babbling, but he always did that when he was nervous. And right now, this little elf made him exceptionally nervous.

Daelos gave him a strange look. "They are."

"Are you half human... or other elf?" Kusek asked, peering down at Daelos.

"I am not."

When Daelos didn't give him anymore on the subject, Kusek dropped it. The elf clearly seemed to not want to share anything about himself. Kusek had to find a way to get him to open up to him. He was very interested in the little creature, and he certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him better.

“Your armor is quite intricate. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” He knew he hit a good spot when Daelos’s eyes seemed to light up at the topic.

“I made it myself, along with the rest of my gear,” Daelos said in his quiet manner, his voice nothing more than a low rumble.

“Oh? That’s quite something. I’d never be able to do something like that, especially not something so detailed.” The elf’s armor was made from dark leather. The chest piece wrapped around him, accentuating his lithe form. He wore leather greaves over boots that reached up to his thighs, and a thick black cloak and grey scarf over his armor. It made his own plain, and slightly rusted, iron armor look like the work of an amateur. Which it probably was, but Kusek had no way of knowing since he had taken it from a dead bandit because it had been slightly better than what he had been wearing at the time.

“Mhm.”

“Are you wearing a corset?” Kusek asked, confused about the strange pieces of leather that were laced around the lower part of the elf’s stomach.

Daelos looked up at him with an expression that said it was not the first time he had been asked that, before turning his eyes back to the road. “…It’s a climbing harness,” he mumbled.

 _Oh…_ “So, um, what do you do? Are you a mercenary?” Kusek didn’t see any weapons other than the bow that was strapped across Daelos’s back, but he knew that the elf had them.

Daelos glanced back towards him. “Of a sort,” he said finally.

“Hey, hey! Want to go raid some ruins together? I know of some near Falkreath that might have some good loot,” Kusek said, taking a few steps ahead of Daelos and then turning around so that he was now walking backwards. He stretched his arms above his head, grinning hopefully. Now he was getting somewhere.

“Perhaps.” At least that was better than a no. He gave Daelos a broad grin.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Rorikstead, Whiterun Hold Territory  
**

 

They made it to Rorikstead by mid-afternoon the next day. They had camped near Karthwasten, a small mining village that sat along the Karth River, when it started to get dark. They had decided to stay outside the little village due to the Silver-Blood mercenaries that were harassing the miners. Kusek and Daelos had remained unbothered in their small camp near the edge of the river.

The two split up when they reached Rorikstead; Daelos saying that he had something that he needed to take care of. By himself. Kusek had went to the inn to get some fresh water and other provisions for later.

 

Daelos left Kusek at the entrance to the inn, walking down the single dusty road, looking for the man that was supposed to be his target. Some man named Lemkil.

He wasn't sure if he was going to kill him. He didn't really want to. He was just going to see what kind of man he was to have someone want him dead. Then he would decide.

He was now standing in front of a house that he believes may belong to Lemkil. He had walked through the town, listening. Everything that he had heard had pointed him in this direction. He walked around the house, finding a back door. He looked around, making sure no one was watching, then he crouched down in front of the door, checking the handle. Locked. He pulled out a pair of slim lockpicks from a hidden pocket on the inside of his vambrace. He had the door open in a matter of seconds.

He slipped inside, silently closing the door behind him. He pulled his hood and scarf up to cover his face, the only thing showing were his blue eyes which were glowing slightly in the dim light.

Still crouching, he crept quietly down the hall towards the main room of the house. He paused at the end when he heard a crash.

“You stupid girl! What are you thinking!?”

“It wasn’t me, papa! It was Britte!”

“That’s not fair, Sissel! You know it wasn’t me!”

“It doesn’t matter. You both deserve a good lashing anyway.”

Daelos peered around the edge of the doorway, seeing a man looming over two cowering girls. He had a short stick in his hands.

Daelos froze, his eyes widening in horror, when he struck one of the girls, bloodying her nose. The other girl crouched over her sister, hugging her. “Papa, please stop! It was an accident! Please don’t hurt us! Please!” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

“Shut up, stupid girl!” the man yelled, hitting her in the back with the stick.

He didn’t get the chance to strike them a third time. Daelos moved before he realized it, grabbing his arm and pinning it behind his back. He had his blade to the man’s throat in an instant.

“What!? What is this!? Who in Oblivion do you think you are!?”

“Quiet,” Daelos growled. He dug his dagger into his neck to emphasize his point. “You will speak only when spoken to,” he seethed.

The man nodded his head frantically.

“Is your name Lemkil?” he asked after a deadly silence.

“Yes. Now, will you tell me what this is about!?”

“You know, at first I wasn’t going to kill you, but now I am not so certain…”

“What!? K-kill me!?” Lemkil screeched, sounding like the pig he was.

“Be. Quiet.” He dug his dagger into his neck again, this time drawing a thin line of blood. Lemkil whimpered “Why do you beat them?”

"B-because...t-they deserve it. Yes, they deserve it! The ungrateful brats!"

"Deserve it?"

"Yes! T-!"

Daelos snarled, making the man instantly shut up. “Did I deserve it, I wonder? Did I deserve to be held captive for nearly over a year, starved and beaten nearly every day? I think not.” He chuckled, making sure to add a slightly hysteric twinge to it. “Well…Maybe I did. Who knows?” he purred. He has found that, in the past, making the few targets that he had actually had to meet face to face think him slightly insane could be rather amusing. Especially when they pissed themselves. Like Lemkil did just now. He dropped his voice dangerously low, any amusement that he may have shown gone. “They don’t deserve it. Do you?” he said into the man’s ear, making him shake even more.

“No, no! Please! Please don’t kill me!”

“Oh? Now you’re going to start begging? I have to say, that is rather off putting. What about them, hmm? When they started to beg? Did you stop? Or did you find some sort of sick satisfaction in hurting them?” he spat, sliding the dagger along the man’s throat. He could feel his pulse flickering wildly.

“A-are you going to kill him, m-mister assassin?” one of the girls asked, the one with the bloody nose. Daelos flinched, he had completely forgotten about them in his anger. They had remained quiet up until now.

"Y-you're from the Dark Brotherhood, right?” the other asked. "We did the Black Sacrament. That's why you're here, right? To kill him? We didn't think anyone would come!"

Daelos didn’t answer. They performed the Black Sacrament? That was such a gruesome thing for two young girls to do…

"You-you stupid, ungrateful brats! After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me? By killing me!?" Lemkil screamed, interrupting his thoughts.

“Shut up,” Daelos ground out, tightening his grip on the man’s arm and making him yelp. “Darling girls,” he said softly, causing them to jump and stare at up him with wide eyes. “You may want to leave the room. This is not something you should want to witness,” he said gently. He watched as they stood and helped each other out of the room. He waited until the door closed behind them.

“Walk,” he ordered, shoving Lemkil forward. “You are lucky, you know… I am not as fond of torture as I used to be. If my Dunmer friend were here, she would have a fun time picking you apart for all you have done to them.”

"Please! Please, you don't have to do this! I promise! I promise I won't beat them anymore!"

Daelos spun him around, pinning him against the wall, his dagger still pressing against his throat. He pulled down his scarf, making sure the man clearly saw the scars on his face. His eyes widened when he did. "Hmm... I don't believe you. You see? Men like you, they do not change. You would stop hurting them for a few weeks. A month or two, perhaps... But then you would just go right back to it."

"No! I promise! I won't!"

"You are right. You won't." Then Daelos slit his throat. He let Lemkil fall and watched as he choked on his own blood.

He looked down at his hand, now stained with red. His hands haven't been this still in months. Not since Gerome died. Not since he killed the man who killed his friend. He can't remember the last time he felt so satisfied over killing someone. He grimaced, disgusted with himself. But he couldn't quite find it in himself to feel guilty.

He walked over to a small wash basin that was near the fireplace, and washed his dagger and hands free of blood. He looked at the small, murky mirror, wiping a streak of blood from his jaw. He hasn't looked into a mirror at himself in a long time. Now he understood why some found him so intimidating, looking at himself, the hood shadowing his scarred face, the dark kohl covering up even darker circles underneath his empty blue eyes.

He sighed, pulling his scarf back up over his face. He looked at his reflection a moment longer before turning to the door.

He left the room, coming up short when two young faces looked up at him. He frowned, leaning back against the door. He was getting sloppy, letting witnesses watch him commit a murder like that. He was surprised they didn’t go to the guards. He contemplated killing them as well, if only to prevent any future trouble. But he just sighed again, they didn’t deserve that. Not after all the bullshit Lemkil put them through.

“Is it over?” one of the girls asked.

“It is,” he said, straightening and moving to walk past them. He tensed, gasping when they ran up to him and hugged him.

“Thank you!”

“Thank you so much!”

“I-I should leave,” Daelos said, trying to extract himself from them.

"Can we go with you?"

"Yeah! Can we be assassins, too? And save people like you do?"

"No.”

"Why not?" they asked in unison.

"...What are your names?" he asked, crouching down to their level.

"I'm Britte!" the one with the bloody nose said.

"And I'm Sissel!"

"Britte. Sissel. This is not a path that you would wish to walk down. It,” he swallowed. “…It takes a lot from a person."

"Then why do you do it?" Sissel asked.

Daelos frowned, he didn’t have an answer for that. He sighed, thinking for a moment. “You two… You should find your own path to walk down. There is still a lot in this world for two young girls to choose form. Don’t be like me…who has always had his path chosen for him.” With that he stood, leaving the way he came.

 

* * *

 

Kusek sat at the bar, listening to the innkeeper ramble on about some old man and how terribly he treated his children. The innkeeper said that he would take them in himself, but the old man refused to let them go. They both looked up when the door opened and Daelos stepped through.

"Ah, my companion. I should go speak to him. Excuse me." He walked over to Daelos who still stood tense near the door.

"Daelos," Kusek greeted. Daelos nodded in return. "I was thinking we could stay here for the night. Rest for the evening. The innkeeper doesn't charge too much for his rooms, so...?"

"No. I would rather keep moving. This place makes me feel uneasy." He glanced over warily to a group of guards that were eyeing them suspiciously.

Though Kusek would have rather had slept in a bed, he still agreed. "Right. Shall we then?" He gestured towards the door with a small smile. Daelos nodded and they left Rorikstead behind.

 

* * *

 

A little while later, Mralki was washing some mugs, thinking about the travelers from before. They seemed a rather odd pair. The Nord was rather friendly and chatty. The other man however, seemed like the exact opposite. He was dark and dangerous looking.

When he had entered the tavern, Mralki had almost reached for the spare sword that he kept underneath his counter, thinking him some kind of bandit. He had noticed the guards also reach for their weapons. But the Nord had just went up to him like he was his best friend.

Something had seemed off about the darkly clad man, since he had remained standing stiffly near the door. Mralki hadn't been able to see his face, due to the hood he wore,  but he could tell that he kept glancing towards the guards. The duo left town shortly after.

His son burst into the room, making him drop the mug he was holding.

"Father!"

"What is it, Erik? What has you so worked up?" he asked, dropping down to clean up the dropped mug.

"It's Lemkil! He's been murdered! They found him not too long ago. His throat cut in his own home!"

"What!? What of the girls? Are they alright?" Mralki asked, forgetting about the broken mug, and rushing around the counter to meet his son.

He wondered who on Mundas could have killed Lemkil. Then he thought of the travelers from before, and the dark clad man. He had seemed like quite the suspicious character and he had seemed tense about something. Could he have done this?

"Britte and Sissel are alright. Britte has a bloody nose, but she’ll be fine. Strangely enough... they are rather happy."

And Mralki didn't blame them, not with the way that man treated them. "Could he have been a blessing in disguise?" he muttered to himself.

"What was that, father?"

"Nothing, son. Let’s go see how the girls are, eh?" Mralki said, putting an arm around Erik's shoulders, and leaving the inn. He was going to see his future adopted daughters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daelos can be a fairly good actor when he wants to be. And he doesn't like Lemkil, as Lemkil found out the hard way.  
> I never like Lemkil either. I always wanted to shoot an arrow through his head whenever I walked through Rorikstead and he would spout of annoying comments about his children. I never did though, because I never wanted the whole town to be trying to kill me. 
> 
> Anyway, please feel free to give me any opinions. I would very much appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Middas, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Pine Forest, Falkreath Hold Territory**

 

That evening they stopped to set up camp in a small, thankfully uninhabited, cave. Kusek was grumpily looking for a good spot to set up a fire. The elf had disappeared at some point when they went to gather fire wood. Kusek hadn't even known that he was gone until he had went to ask him something. Daelos was apparently good at sneaking.

Kusek was trying to light the fire, and failing horribly, when suddenly it exploded to life. Letting out an undignified screech, he scrambled away from the flames. (It scared him, okay?) He heard a faint chuckle and looking up, he saw a quick flash of white teeth.

"So, you can perform magic. Why am I not surprised," Kusek said sarcastically, brushing sparks off of his clothes.

"You looked like you were having trouble." Daelos sat down across from him, carrying quite the bounty.

"You killed that thing?" Kusek stared wide eyed at the good-sized elk the elf had been carrying across his shoulders.

"Yes. Why are you surprised?" Daelos mocked him, cocking his head to the side. His ears tilted up slightly, making him look like a curious cat.

"But how did you even carry-? You know what, never mind. I'm not even gonna ask. Are you gonna skin that thing, or am I?" He could already taste the fresh venison.

Before he could get a response, Daelos already had a slim hunting knife in his left hand and was sinking the blade into the elk's flesh. He gave Kusek a pointed look.

"Alright then..." _I guess I got my answer._

 

* * *

 

After skinning the elk and tending to the leftover meat, the human and mer sat comfortably across from each other at the fire. Kusek was still eating when Daelos stood and walked off.

He walked over to a nearby stream and sat on a rock, resting his forearms on his knees. He watched as the moonlight shimmered over the water as it rushed lazily over the small rocks. It was peaceful right here, with the sound of the stream and the quiet whisper of the wind flitting through the branches of the tall pines. The sky was blanketed in bright stars, the twin moons sitting high above the trees.

He reached into his pocket, remembering a small object that he had acquired from before. He pulled out a gold ring set with a ruby stone. He held it up to the moonlight, judging it for how much coin he could make from it. He wondered how much Delvin would give him for it.

"Didn't think you much for jewelry," Kusek said, stepping into his line of sight. Daelos had heard the Nord approach him as he had attempted, quite poorly, to sneak up on him.

"Depends on the jewelry. Though, I am not usually. And gold is not really my color," Daelos said as Kusek sat down beside him, pouting slightly at his failed attempt to sneak up on him.

"Then why'd you buy it?"

"I didn't. Pocketed it off a guard as we were leaving Rorikstead."

Kusek gave him an incredulous look. Daelos just stared up at him innocently, cocking his head slightly.

"Are you a thief? You strike me as one," Kusek said, gesturing to his dark attire.

"If that is what you think, then I guess it is so," Daelos said, evasively.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"If I look like a thief, and I act like a thief," Daelos said, gesturing to the ring, "then I must be a thief."

"Smartass..." Kusek glowered.

"Should you not be worried? Me being a thief?" Daelos almost challenged. He gave Kusek a sidelong look.

"Not really. I've been around plenty of thieves, being a mercenary and all. And I've had to steal on a few occasions myself just to get by." He smirked at Daelos. "So long as you keep your hands to yourself, I think we'll be alright," Kusek said with a wink.

Daelos huffed at him, dropping his gaze back to the ring.

"So, mage and thief, eh?"

He looked back up in confusion.

"Magic. You did magic back there, right? Doesn't that make you a mage?"

"No. Not exactly. I might be able to perform small spells, such as a fire ball or electrocuting someone, but I wouldn't consider myself a mage. I wouldn't be able to hold a candle to someone, say, from the College of Winterhold." The only reason he knew the little bit of magic that he has was because of Gabriella. She had grilled him to learn, saying that it could become useful in the most unexpected of places. But he was only ever able to make anything manifest if he concentrated hard enough, and it wasn't really useful in any kind of fight.

"Hmm, I see." Kusek nodded with a serious expression.

"What?"

"I think that's the most I've heard you speak at one time," Kusek said with a grin.

"Right," Daelos scoffed, shaking his head slightly,

"It's peaceful this time of night, isn't it?"

 "It is." Daelos agreed. "It is getting rather late, though. I can take first watch, if you like."

"I won't argue with that," Kusek said, standing with a yawn and then heading back to their camp. "Goodnight."

"Mhm."

Daelos looked up, just barely being able to make out the twin moons, Secunda and Masser, through the thick trees. He wondered how he could speak to someone he barely knew so easily. They didn't have very much in common and their personalities were very different. Even now, Daelos had a hard time speaking with Gabriella sometimes. For some reason, he felt at ease with the Nord.

 

* * *

 

Kusek woke Daelos as the sun rose, not that he was really asleep. His watch had ended halfway through the night. He had tried to sleep, but for some reason he had been unable to. Not that that was unusual for him, he often went several days without sleep. Even still, he was rather grumpy. Daelos was not a morning person. (Or a 'day' person at all, for that matter. He was used to being up at night and sleeping through the day.)

Kusek found this out at breakfast. He was generally in a good mood in the mornings. He had tried to chat while they were eating, asking the mer questions and trying to start conversations. Each time getting growled or glared at by the grumpy mer.

Daelos had just finished his meal and the Nord was trying to get him to chat again. _How can anyone be in such a good mood this early in the morning?_ he thought grumpily.

After baring his teeth for the umpteenth time and growling loudly, the Nord finally got the hint and left Daelos alone, smiling apologetically.

 

After cleaning up camp, the elk hide, and leftover venison nestled safely in their packs, Kusek and Daelos set back onto the road. And after another day and night of travel, and a few weak flirt attempts on Kusek's part, the two finally arrived at Falkreath around midday.

"So, hey. What d'ya wanna do?" Kusek asked, looking down at the shorter mer.

"I have some business that I need to attend to."

"Where at?"

"Private...business," Daelos said quietly.

"Oh. You still won't tell me what it is that you do, will you?'

Daelos shook his head.

"What d'ya say we meet at the inn after you take care of your business?"

"Alright. I will meet you then." Daelos turned to leave, leaving Kusek at the gates to the town. For some reason, Kusek had the sad feeling that Daelos wouldn't meet him at the inn later.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 22nd of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, Falkreath  
**

 

Astrid heard the door close at the same time that she felt his presence behind her. "I see you made it out of Markarth."

Daelos stayed silent. The damn Bosmer was sneaky. Too sneaky. Even Astrid herself couldn't sense him half of the time.

"Care to tell me what happened?" She turned to face him. He stood just outside of the light from the candles, bathed in shadows. Shadow incarnate. The only thing that she could clearly see were his glowing blue eyes.

"The client never showed, and I had a run in with the guards," was his quiet response, nothing more than a raspy whisper.

"So, I heard. You weren't compromised, I hope?" She had hoped that 'run in with the guards' would have ended up with him face down in the gutter. Markarth guards were notorious for their cruel behavior, especially against nonhumans. And a handful of coins were all she needed to get them to do her bidding.

"No. They came after me for...other reasons." If he was angry, his voice did not portray it.

"The contact was jailed. That's why he didn't show. The guards caught wind of a conspiracy to have his brother killed," Astrid said nonchalantly, turning away from Daelos, but making sure to keep him in her line of sight.

"And you did not think to warn me beforehand?" Though he appeared to remain completely calm, Astrid saw his eyes flash from underneath the shadows of his hood.

 _He's good at keeping his masks._ "I wanted to see what you would do in such a situation. You're still learning," she lied easily.

"You are aware that I was an assassin before joining the Dark Brotherhood."

"Yes. Fortunately for us, since we didn't have to spend the last three years training you. But, you were an assassin that didn't belong to a brotherhood. A freelance with no tenets, who followed no rules but his own, and had different ways of doing things." Astrid picked up a dagger that was lying on her desk and ran her fingers over its edge.

"Did you know that they would come after me?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"Now, why ever would you accuse me of such a thing, dear _Brother?"_ Astrid placed a hand over her chest, feigning hurt.

Daelos remained silent, ever watching. Waiting.

"Go and see Nazir. He may have another contract for you, if you wish," she dismissed him. Daelos walked away, silent as a stalking wolf.

Astrid wanted him away from her. He made her feel uneasy. There was just something different about him. Something more ominous than anything she's ever seen. Did he scare her? Was she afraid of him? Was that this feeling she felt? Fear? She continued to contemplate these questions for several hours even after he had left the sanctuary.

 

* * *

 

"Ah, my dear Little Wolf! You've returned to us," Gabriella greeted Daelos warmly as he entered the alchemy wing of the sanctuary.

"Hello, Gabriella," he smiled at her.

"Oh, my dear child! What happened to your face? You look absolutely terrible; your hair is so dirty! Come sit down, I'll fetch us some tea." She led him to the table before scurrying off towards the dining area, not even allowing him a chance to speak. He sat awkwardly in the chair, staring after the Dunmer owlishly, scratching lightly at the healing cuts on his cheek.

"Daelos, hello," said Babette, appearing from the direction Gabriella went.

"Babette," he greeted. For some reason he always felt strangely at ease around the vampire child.

"How are you? Gabriella said you looked worse for wear."

"The contract in Markarth did not go quite as planned," he explained, propping his head up on a fist and picking at one of the jars with some of Babette's alchemy ingredients.

"Careful, that might explode." Daelos quickly shot out of the chair, backing away. He gave the jar a criticizing look which earned him a dark chuckle from the vampire. "Were you caught?"

"I was not."

"You were lucky then," Gabriella said, returning to the room with a pitcher of tea and three mugs. Pouring the tea, she handed one of the mugs to him and another to Babette. "Markarth is...unwelcome to outsiders."

"Yes. I had the luxury of firsthand experience," he said spitefully, peering at the contents of his mug. It was black tea, one of his favorites.

"They didn't harm you, did they?" Gabriella leaned forward to inspect him.

He shook his head with a small smile. "I had a savior."

"Ooh, a knight in shining armor?" chimed Babette when she saw his rare smile.

He took a sip of his tea to hide his smirk, "A Nord. A warrior in dull, rusty iron armor." He heard the sneer from Gabriella.

"Since when does some damn Nord care about what happens to one of us?" The Dunmer spat something else in her native tongue. Daelos didn't quite catch it, but judging from her tone, it probably wasn't very polite.

"Who is he?" Babette asked, ignoring Gabriella. "What's he like?"

"His name is Kusek... He seems nice." Daelos shrugged.

"Don't let your guard down, my Little Wolf. He's human."

"Oh, come now, Gabriella," chastised Babette. "Just because he's human doesn't mean anything. Human or mer or vampire, anyone can be good or bad. Just look at Arnbjorn. He's a grumpy old mutt, but he can be alright sometimes. For a werewolf."

"I suppose so," Gabriella continued to sulk.

"Still, it is unlike you to be seen, Dae," Babette inquired.

"Yes. I still do not understand what happened myself. It is almost as if they knew where I would try to go and what I would do after I left that tavern. I am only glad that Kusek showed up when he had. Or else, I probably would not be sitting here right now," Daelos said, looking back into his tea. He still felt like he was missing something, like the answer was right in front of him and he still couldn't see it. Astrid had denied any involvement, but Daelos never could bring himself to trust her. He always had the feeling that she kept a dagger poised at his back.

"We've all had a brush with certain doom. It comes with being part of the underworld," Gabriella said, leaning forward and covering his hand with one of her own. "At least I will have this Kusek to thank for making sure you came back to us safely."

Daelos gave her a small smile. "Is Katria here?" It had been a while since he had last seen the spunky Altmer. He wondered how she was doing.

"No," Gabriella said. "The dear Little Flower is out on a contract of her own, in Solitude. It will probably be a few more weeks until she returns to us."

"I see," he said, slightly disappointed. "I should go see Nazir. Astrid said to go to him for my next contract." Daelos stood, finishing his tea.

"Be careful, my Little Wolf. I would hate to hear that something bad had happened to you," Gabriella said. Daelos nodded and left to find Nazir.

 

 

"Nazir."

"Ah, greetings, our dear Little Wolf. How do you fare?"

"Well enough. Here is the contract for old man Lemkil of Rorikstead. Astrid told me to come see you for the next one."

"Ah, yes. A terrible old man, so I hear. And here you are. There are three in total." Nazir picked up a few parchments as if he had been waiting for him, which, knowing him, he probably was. "An orc bard named Lurbuk. Supposedly his singing is to die for," he chuckled at his own joke. "A Nordic man, Hern. Watch yourself with this one. He, like our dear Babette, is a child of the night. Another vampire is at his side at all times, so you'll probably have to deal with her as well. Keep your wits about you," the Redguard stressed. "And lastly, an Imperial, Adrick Leonis. An Imperial Soldier, as I'm sure you guessed. Not sure who wants him dead, but they performed the Black Sacrament. I'm sure it has something to do with the war, though. Well, that's all I have for now. Be careful, and go kill someone for me."

 

 

Daelos kicked open the door to his room, re-braiding his hair as he went. He had taken the time to bathe and clean up his things a bit. He wasn't going to stay in the sanctuary for long, only to pick up a few things before he set out again. He tossed his things on his bed, shutting the door behind him. His room didn't have much in the way of furnishing, he had never seen the need for any. He had a bed, shoved in the corner, and a small table to work from, that was all he really needed. But one thing he did make sure to have was shelves. Bookcases lined the walls of his small room.

Daelos loved to read. It was a skill he didn't even remember how he had learned, but one he cherished. He spent any free time reading and he hoarded books worse than he hoarded jewelry. Almost every available surface was littered with books. They were even stacked on the floor, in corners, and on top of and under furniture, only leaving him a small path so that he could move around. They were stacked in such an organized chaos, that he was probably the only one who could make any sense of where was what.

And speaking of jewelry... Daelos pulled out the ruby ring that he had gotten in Rorikstead. He walked over to the one bookshelf that was free of books, one that he had reserved for these kinds of things. He set the ring down next to a small collection of other rings. He was often picking up jewelry and other knickknacks when he went out on jobs. It was an old habit of his that he had never really been able to break. (Not that he had really tried.)

He picked up an old wolf's head pendant. It was small trinket, carved from ebony wood, with wolf teeth woven into the leather string on either side. Suou had made it for him. He had been his partner when Daelos had still been a thief in Cyrodiil. It was the only thing he had left from that time.

He slipped pendant around his neck, deciding he would wear it for a while. (He could be rather sentimental sometimes.)

 

 

After gathering some fresh clothes and other things he would need for traveling, such as healing tonics and the salves he used for cleaning his gear, Daelos left the sanctuary. Stopping at the road, he looked toward the setting sun as he contemplated where he should head first, not really wanting to complete those contracts. Then he thought of Kusek. The Nord was probably still waiting for him to meet him at the inn. Not entirely sure why, Daelos headed back towards the town.

Oh well, it's been awhile since he last went exploring. He kind of missed it. Besides, it would give him a good distraction from his current work anyway, and it's not like he had a time limit on those contracts.

 

* * *

 

Kusek was sitting at the bar, nursing a cup of mead. He had hoped that Daelos would have joined him, but he gave up once the sun set. He should have guessed as much. A creature like that doesn't trust easily.

He wondered what could have happened to make him so untrusting. And his face...it was such a gruesome scar. Something truly terrible must have happened. He took another sip from his mead. He didn't even know the elf was sitting next to him until the owner was asking him if he wanted anything.

"I'll have some spiced wine."

Sputtering his drink, Kusek jumped up from his seat. He hit his leg on the bar and cursed, earning a dark chuckle from the elf, the sound reverberating through his chest.

"Hello, Kusek," Daelos said, giving him an amused look.

"H-hello," he stammered. "Wh-where did you come from?"

"The door," Daelos chuckled again, sipping his wine. "It's right over there."

"R-right," Kusek said, hiding his embarrassment behind his mug. Daelos's smile didn't reach his lips, but Kusek could see it in his eyes. He returned it with a small grin of his own.

"So, these ruins you mentioned. Where are they?"

"Shriekwind Bastion? They're a little ways north of Falkreath."

"Are you two adventurers by any chance? Maybe you'd be interested in a bounty?" the owner inquired.

"What sort of bounty?" Daelos asked.

"Some bandits at a camp to the east near Helgen. The bounty's on the leader. But the Jarl might give you a little extra for clearing them all out."

"What do you think, Kusek?"

"Hm. Maybe." Did Daelos want to take on a bounty with him? Kusek's heart leapt into his throat. "What's the price?"

"1,000 septims, if I remember correctly."

"What do you think, Daelos?" Kusek asked hopefully.  

"Why not?"

"Excellent! I'll go to the Jarl!" the owner exclaimed excitedly, hurrying from the bar.

"You really want to go hunt some bandits?" he asked Daelos sheepishly.

"I could use the coin since my last job didn't go well," Daelos said, giving him a pointed look. "Besides, you are not that bad of company," he said with a smirk.

What Kusek wouldn't do to see a full smile on that beautiful face. "Well, I should hope not. Since it looks you'll be stuck with me for a while," he grinned. That smirk widened ever so slightly. Kusek thought his heart skipped a beat.

 

* * *

 

They sat at the bar for a few more hours. Kusek was chatting animatedly between him and the innkeeper. Daelos wondered why he decided to join the Nord. True, he was different than most, but there was something else about the man. He felt drawn to him for some reason. And he was frustrated that he couldn't figure out the reason why.

"Daelos?" He looked up. Kusek was staring at him now, a concerned look in his eyes. He realized that he had asked him something and was waiting for an answer.

He winced, “Ah, apologies, Kusek. I was…lost in thought.”

“It’s okay. I was just saying that you seemed tired and asked if you wanted to turn in for the night.” The Nord was always quick with a smile.

“Yes. I think that would be wise.”

 

As Daelos lay on the cot that was supposed to be a bed, he thought of the events from the last few days. The incident at Markarth and Astrid’s so-called test. His meeting with Kusek.

Daelos knew that he shouldn’t be letting the Nord get so close to him. Trust was hard to come by these days, especially in his line of work. If Kusek found out that he was an assassin… He didn’t want to think about that. Daelos fell asleep with an image of Kusek’s smile playing on his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Date: Unknown**

**Location: Unknown**

 

White hot, burning pain. It was searing his skin. He felt his skin rip apart as the whip lashed across his back and he felt the blood trickle down his spine. He let out a strangled cry; his first sound of pain.

Even after all the torture, _all the pain_ , they put him through to try and break him, he remained defiant. His pride forced him to be. He wouldn't allow humans to break him; he wouldn't allow anyone to break him.

He would bend, but he would not break. He wouldn't allow himself to break. He would rather die before he broke to anyone.

There was another harsh crack of the whip. He buried the cry that was welling up in his throat. They kept coming, strike after strike. He didn't know how much more he could take before his body would give out. The pain was becoming unbearable.

The torturer brought down the iron tipped whip across his shoulders once more, ripping the already torn flesh. A scream tore its way from his throat before he could stop it, and the torturer laughed at him. He let out a harsh laugh of his own, baring his teeth against the pain.

His slightly feral laugh brought the torturer up short, the grin falling from his face. He was always doing things like this; laughing when they beat him. It was his own little show of defiance, showing that they could try their hardest, but they would never be able to break him.

It was intimidating to his captors. They thought him insane. Sometimes, it caused them to leave him alone, leaving him in a dark cell or cage, wasting away. Not that he cared, that was always better than the beatings.

His torturer was running out of patience. He felt himself smile despite it all. This was usually when he ended up bloodied and unconscious, but free of pain, for a short while anyway. He was waiting for the day they would finally decide to just kill him.

The torturer grabbed him by the back of his neck. He could feel the ropes wrapped around his wrists pull painfully against his mangled shoulders. The man cut him loose from his bonds and threw him to the ground.

_This is it. He's run out patience. He's going to kill me._

The torturer slowly walked towards him. He didn't have the strength to defend himself. His arms were numb and so full of pain. He couldn't move. But he wasn't going to let his weakness show. He looked at his torturer with a wolfish grin, his blood stained teeth flashing in the dim light, trying in vain to try and rise.

The torturer was looming over him now. He grabbed him by the neck and was using his superior weight to pin him to the ground. He was so much larger than he was, he felt like he was being crushed. He could feel his panic rising in his chest as the man's hands tightened around his throat. He tried to fight back, but his arms wouldn't respond to him. His body wouldn't move at all.

He was trapped.

_I must get away! He's going to kill me! I'm going to die-!_

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 23rd of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Deadman's Drink Inn, Falkreath**

 

Daelos woke with a sharp cry, breathing heavily, his skin damp with sweat, and his heart racing in his chest. He sighed deeply, pulling his knees to his chest to try to get his shoulders to stop shaking.

He heard movement to his left. "Daelos? Are you okay?"

He jerked his head up towards the sound of his name, eyes wide. Kusek was sitting up in his own bed across the room, looking at him with concern. "Y-yes. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Kusek asked, worry deepening his voice slightly. "You called out..."

"I'm fine. It was...it wasn't real." He ran a shaky hand through sweat damp hair, letting out a shuddering breath. "...I apologize for waking you."

"It's okay. It's about time to be getting up anyway." Kusek gave him a small smile.

Daelos looked outside through the small window. The sun was just starting to rise over the eastern mountains, dyeing everything in a pale silvery-gold glow. He let out another breath, lying back down on the bed.

He was tired. More tired than when he went to sleep. He felt like he didn't sleep at all. Daelos let his eyes fall closed, willing away the after images of his dream.

Kusek was moving around the room, getting ready for the day. He was trying to be quiet, though the Nord was failing quite terribly with how clumsy he was, but Daelos was grateful for the attempt none the less, because his head felt like it was about to split open. He weighed the idea of going back to sleep, but he knew it wouldn't last long. They were going to have to get back on the road soon. He was about to get up until-

"Hey, Dae? If you want, I can go get us some breakfast and bring it back to the room?" Kusek asked, worry still in his dark blue eyes.

"Yes. Thank you, that would be great," Daelos said with a thankful expression. He knew Kusek was leaving on purpose, to give him some privacy. The Nord was always so considerate.

Kusek gave him another smile and left the room. Daelos let his eyes fall closed again, feeling the tension and phantom pain slowly drain away from his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

Kusek had always been an early riser, so it didn't surprise him that he woke before the elf. It was still dark out, just the smallest bit of light peeking out above the snow-capped mountains meaning that dawn wasn't far off.

He heard Daelos moving around and wondered if the elf was waking up as well. Then he heard a small, almost whimpering sound. He slowly sat up, searching for Daelos's small form in the darkness.

Daelos was tangled in the furs, and his hair was coming undone from its braid and was covering his face, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His skin shone with a sheen of sweat, the scars on his face and neck standing out starkly against his olive colored skin.

 _Is he having a nightmare?_ Kusek was about to get up to try and wake the elf when he jerked into a sitting position with a strangled cry. Daelos let out a shuddering breath, resting his head against his knees. His hands were gripping tightly at his sides, and his shoulders were hunched as if he were in pain.

"Daelos?" Even if it was only for a split second, Daelos looked at him with eyes filled with raw terror, before his face smoothed out into an almost emotionless expression. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes. I'm fine," Daelos said monotonously. He looked away towards the wall, becoming very still.

 _He's closing himself off again. Like he did in Markarth._ "Are you sure? You called out..." _I wish he would talk to me, but trying to get him to talk would only make him close himself off more._

"I'm fine. It was...it wasn't real." Daelos let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his dark hair.

 _Wasn't real?_ Kusek didn't get the chance to think about what that meant when the elf spoke again. "I apologize for waking you."

Kusek looked at him in surprise. "It's okay. It's about time to be getting up anyway." He gave Daelos what he hoped was a comforting smile. It must have worked, because the elf's eyes softened slightly from the blank expression they had adopted before he looked past Kusek out the window.

Kusek stood from his bed, donning his armor and gathering the rest of his things, trying to be quiet. Daelos was lying back down, watching him absently. He closed his eyes with a sigh.

 _He looks so tired. I wonder if I should give him a few minutes alone._ "Hey, Dae?" Daelos looked up at him with those blank eyes. Kusek hated it, but he didn't know what else to do, so he said, "If you want, I can go get us some breakfast and bring it back to the room?"

"Yes. Thank you, that would be great." Kusek could hear the relief in his voice. He smiled at Daelos and left the room.

 

 

Kusek returned to their room a little while later, arms laden with food. He knocked on the door with a boot before shouldering it open. "Food is here!" he announced, walking over to a small table near the door and setting the plates down. Daelos didn't respond to him.

He looked around, searching for the elf. He wasn't in his bed anymore. "Daelos?"

Then he spotted him, sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed. He was hunched over, hugging his knees. Kusek noticed the dark grey shirt that he had been wearing discarded on the floor as if Daelos had ripped it off and thrown it away. "Daelos, are you alright?" The elf still didn't respond to him.

Kusek slowly walked to the end of the bed and crouched down next to Daelos, whose face was buried in his knees. Carefully, as if he were approaching an injured animal, Kusek reached out and touched the elf's shoulder. Daelos recoiled as if he had burned him, jerking to the side, and bracing himself against the bedframe, his back facing him. Then Kusek saw his back and pulled his hand away in shock. "By the Nine...!"

Daelos's back looked like it had been torn to shreds. Scars layered over even more scars, almost every inch of skin across his shoulders was covered in jagged, slightly raised marks. Lash marks, Kusek realized. He looked at Daelos who was now watching him out of the corner of his eye with an unreadable expression, his eyes a dull blue-grey.

"Dae..." Kusek didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say that wouldn't make his worse?

Daelos looked back to the floor with unfocused eyes.

Not really sure of what he was doing, Kusek moved to sit behind Daelos. The elf tensed, watching him again. Gently, he placed a hand between scarred shoulder blades. Daelos flinched violently, but he didn't pull away.

Carefully, Kusek pulled the elf to sit between his legs, his back resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around Daelos's smaller form, the elf growing impossibly still. "I'm so sorry," Kusek muttered into his shoulder.

Kusek half expected Daelos to push him away, or to lash out, or something. But to his surprise, and relief, Daelos just sagged against him with a tired sigh.

 

* * *

 

Daelos hadn't meant to fall back asleep, but he had. He had woken feeling like the furs were trying to strangle him. His shirt had been stuck to his back, feeling so very much like blood, with ghost like hands still roaming over his skin.

He had stumbled out of bed, ripping off his sweat soaked shirt. He had just collapsed against the foot of his bed when Kusek returned, announcing that he had brought food.

He hadn't expected him to come back so soon. He didn't want Kusek to see him like this. He heard the Nord call for him, but he didn't respond. He shrunk back against the bed, willing the shadows to hide him.

Daelos felt something touch his shoulder and he jerked violently away.

"By the Nine...!" he heard Kusek gasp. Daelos looked at him from over his shoulder. Kusek was staring at his back with shocked horror. "Dae..."

When Kusek's darker blue eyes met his own lighter ones, he looked away. Waiting.

Daelos didn't know what he was waiting for exactly. Questions, maybe? Kusek demanding to know what had happened? He didn't want to talk about it. He _couldn't_ talk about the scars that were still so fresh on his mind even after three years.

He heard Kusek move to sit behind him and he tensed. Daelos wasn't expecting the hand that pressed between his shoulders and he flinched. Then Kusek was pulling him back to rest against his chest, wrapping around him almost possessively. He almost panicked, feeling trapped. "I'm so sorry," he heard Kusek whisper into his shoulder.

Daelos was frozen, unsure of what to do. He could have gotten away if he wanted to. He could have gotten the small knife that he kept on the inside of the waistband of his pants in his hand in a matter of seconds. He could have taken that blade and slashed Kusek's throat. He could have killed the Nord in several different manners before he even had the chance to defend himself. But no, he frowned, he didn't want to do that.

After a few moments, he let himself relax in Kusek's strong arms, resting his head back against his shoulder. His exhaustion was leeching his strength.

Daelos didn't know how long they stayed like that, him locked in Kusek's warm embrace. For the first time in a long time, Daelos almost felt safe.

 

 

It must have been a while, they stayed like that, because Daelos had dozed off again. He woke, curled against the Nord's chest, the cold metal of his armor pressing comfortingly against his cheek and Kusek's hand running gently through his hair. The sun was now shining brightly through the small window.

Daelos reluctantly sat up, giving Kusek a sidelong look.

Kusek gave him a small smile. "Hey, you."

"Thank you," Daelos said quietly, looking away.

"Why are you thanking me?" (Sure he was a bit numb from sitting on the floor for so long, but he didn't really mind getting to hold the little elf who was normally so reluctant to touch.)

"Mhm." _For many reasons. For comforting me. For not asking questions. For being here for me when you had no reason to be._

"It's probably cold by now, but there's food over on the table if you're up for it," Kusek offered.

"Okay." Daelos stood up, extending a hand to help Kusek up. He took his hand with a surprised, but gentle smile and hefted himself up.

Daelos reached down and picked up his shirt that he had thrown away in his fit, and pulled it back on. Kusek, who was watching him and trying to hide the concern in his dark eyes, gestured for him to sit so he sat down on his bed. Kusek handed him a plate and sat down next to him, their shoulders brushing slightly.

They ate in silence. Daelos didn't really feel like talking and Kusek didn't push him to, which he was grateful for.

He watched as Kusek speared a piece of unidentifiable meat (pork, maybe?) on his fork and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"This tastes terrible," Daelos said unceremoniously, after only a few bites. (He never was a fan of pork.)

"It does..." Kusek visibly deflated. "I honestly don't think it would have tasted any better when it was still warm."

"Most likely not." Daelos set his food aside and stood up. He put his armor on, strapping his quiver over his left shoulder and his daggers to his lower back, out of sight underneath his cloak. He felt Kusek watching him again, so he looked back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you left handed?" Kusek asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What makes you think that?" _What a strange question to ask._

"Well, you hold your bow with your right arm and your quiver's strapped to your left shoulder. And the other day, when you were skinning that elk, you were holding your knife with your left hand."

"You are observant. You would make a good thief. If you were a bit quieter, that is..." Daelos smirked at him. He realized what the Nord was doing. He was trying to distract him. And Daelos was immensely grateful for it.

Kusek blushed slightly. "So, you are left handed?"

"I am."

"Hmm."

"Is that strange?"

"N-no. It's just interesting, is all."

"Hmm." Daelos crossed his arms, mimicking the Nord.

"What?"

"Interesting, huh?" Daelos asked, his voice dropping slightly.

"Y-yeah?" Kusek blushed again. Daelos would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy watching the Nord squirm. 

"You are so strange." Daelos smirked again.

"W-wh-!? H-how am I strange!?"

"You just are."

"I am not! And that isn't even a valid answer!" Kusek exclaimed, standing abruptly and pointing a finger at Daelos.

"Yes, you are. And to me it is," Daelos said, leaning forward slightly and baring sharp teeth in a wolf like grin.

Kusek just continued to stare at him, his face still red.

"Anyway," Daelos said, changing the subject. He wrapped his scarf around his neck, still smirking. "We should get moving. It is already midday."

Kusek huffed at him and Daelos shot him an amused look, which caused the Nord to become even more flustered. Kusek picked up his swords that were leaning against the wall near the door and strapped them to his person, following Daelos out of the inn. He smiled softly at the mer's back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sundas, 23rd of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Pine Forest, Falkreath Hold Territory**

 

Kusek and Daelos were walking on the road to Shriekwind Bastion. Kusek was observing the way that Daelos walked. He almost glided when he walked, like he was a great jungle cat instead of a person. He was so silent. If Kusek weren't looking at him right now, he wouldn't even believe he was there.

Daelos noticed him watching and asked him in a fake Nordic accent, "Is there a problem?"

Kusek couldn't help but laugh out loud, "By Talos, that was terrible!"

Some of the villagers that were traveling opposite of them looked up at him with strange looks. Whether it was from his outburst, or from his use of Talos, he didn't know. He didn't really care either.

Daelos gave a quiet chuckle from beside him, and Kusek marveled at the raspy baritone.

"Do we really sound like that?" Kusek asked, still laughing.

"Sometimes, yes." Daelos smirked at him slightly. "Your accent isn't so bad, though. It's quite lilty. I like that."

"Um, thanks," Kusek said with an embarrassed chuckle, scratching at his cheek. "What I don't get is how your voice is so low. You're so small!"

"Everyone is small compared to you. You are as big as a bear." Daelos pretended to pout, his pointed ears drooping slightly.

"I can't really help that..."

"Thus, my point," Daelos deadpanned.

 

They were starting to get higher in altitude. Even in late summer, there were more and more patches of snow starting to appear on the ground. Daelos grinned suddenly, an idea sparking in his mind. He pulled his scarf up a bit higher to hide his smirk and dropped back a few paces, making sure not to catch Kusek's eye. He crouched down and gathered snow in finger-less gloved hands. Kusek still hadn't noticed him. With a wicked grin that had his nose crinkling slightly, Daelos stood and threw his snowball.

It lobbed Kusek in the back of the head. The Nord froze stock-still as ice dripped down the back of his neck and stuck in his rust colored hair. He slowly turned towards Daelos with an evil grin, a playful glint in his dark blue eyes. Daelos distantly heard the people around them laughing at their childish antics.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, elf." Kusek ran and ducked behind the nearest tree. He gathered up his own snowball and chucked it at Daelos. It missed him by at least a foot. Daelos felt himself smile, the feeling becoming more and more common on his face lately.

He ran towards a different tree and pulled himself up into its branches. A ball of snow shattered in a spray of ice on the trunk, next to his head. "Hey! That's not fair!" he heard Kusek cry.

"Nothing is fair in a fight, Kusek! Take advantage of your surroundings. Learn your opponent's weaknesses and use them against them. Like climbing for example!" he shouted, crouching on a low branch and dodging more ice. "Useful skills for any thief!"

"On with the thief stuff again? I'm not a thief! How in Oblivion do you climb like that!?" Kusek shouted from the ground.

"I am good like that." Daelos smirked, scraping snow from the branches at his feet.

Kusek, upon seeing him, ran and ducked behind another tree. Daelos climbed higher in his tree, carrying his snow. He traversed from branch to branch until he was positioned above Kusek, who was peering around the tree looking for him. Daelos gave a wolfish smirk, his teeth showing playfully. Instead of letting his snowball fall on Kusek's head, he shook the branch he was crouched on, burying Kusek, who let out an indignant yelp, in snow.

Daelos jumped down, laughing quietly. "I think I win."

He heard Kusek mumble something. His limbs were sticking out of the snow awkwardly. Daelos let out another quiet laugh. He was about to help unbury the Nord when he grabbed Daelos by the ankles and jerked him to the ground, burying them both in the white fluff. "I think not!" Kusek exclaimed, triumphant.

Daelos sat up, sputtering snow. He was now covered in the stuff. It was on his clothes, and in his hair. His wet hair was sticking to his face, making him look like a disheveled cat. He glared up at Kusek who was roaring with laughter. Daelos scoffed, unable to hold his smirk back. He threw more snow at the Nord, hitting him in the face and causing him to laugh even more.

He looked down at his now soaked clothing and proceeded to brush the snow off of himself. _I'm going to be an icicle later,_ he thought, surprisingly smug.

"C'mon." He looked up to see Kusek, who was equally soaked, holding out hand with a big grin.

Daelos gave him a soft smile and took his hand, letting the Nord pull him up.

 

* * *

 

They made it to Shriekwind Bastion just before sunset. They entered the tomb, Daelos pulling out his bow.

As they entered a long hallway, Daelos smelled a familiar, yet very disturbing smell. He grabbed Kusek, shoving him back against the door with a hand over his mouth.

"What is it?" Kusek mumbled through his fingers, slightly flustered about the position they were in.

"Quiet! Vampires," he whispered. He grabbed Kusek's arm, leading him back outside the tomb.

"What do you mean vampires? How do you know there're vampires? And where are we going!?"

"Stop yelling!" he hissed, baring his teeth. "They could hear us!" Daelos, nearly running and dragging Kusek behind him, put a good distance between them and the bastion before stopping and answering the Nord's questions.

"I could hear them. And vampires have this peculiar smell that always hangs around them. It would be wise to wait until morning, when their powers weaken, before we took them on," he said, glancing behind them.

"You could hear them? How in Oblivion could you hear them? And what do you mean smell? How often do you hang around vampires?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Daelos snarled, glancing around again, agitated. Kusek could tell the mer was stressed, so he tried not to be too offended.

Daelos took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, feeling slightly bad about snapping at the Nord. "I could hear and smell them because my hearing and sense of smell are far better than any human, and even most beasts. And I recognized the smell because I happen to be on fairly good terms with a vampire. She always has this smell that follows her around. Like a sweet, yet dark, rotten scent."

"How do you know a vampire?" Kusek asked, still slightly sulking from being scolded.

"I...do work with her on occasion."

"Oh. So, uh, where are we going to stay until morning?" Kusek changed the subject, knowing that Daelos wouldn't explain any more than that he 'works with her.'

"There was a tower a little ways back. Let us go there."

They started walking back towards the Falkreath Watchtower. Daelos was still holding his bow in his tightly right hand. He kept his ears open, his head turning back and forth like an owl's, listening intently just in case they happened to be followed.

"It would be interesting to meet a vampire," Kusek said suddenly. "One that wasn't trying to kill and eat me, that is."

"No. Trust me, she is not one you would actively want to meet, especially if she happened to be hungry." Daelos did enjoy Babette's company, but sometimes she could just be a little too 'vampirey.' He recalled the last contract he and Babette had went on together, and he shuddered at the memory of her gorging herself on the two victims. It was something that no person should ever see a child doing. Not even a vampire child.

"Oh..." Kusek paled slightly.

"Yeah..." Daelos said, rubbing at his neck. "I have happened to be on the receiving end of a vampire's hunger before. It was...an interesting experience."

"You've been bitten by a vampire before?"

"I have," he said slowly, surprised at himself for admitting such a thing.

"How was it 'an interesting experience'?"

"Because I don't remember most of it?" Daelos shrugged. "I remember being attacked from behind. He was able to take away a good bit of blood before Veeza-I mean, my partner at the time, was able to stop it. According to him, I just stumbled around drunk for a bit before collapsing. I woke up a day and a half later with fang marks on the back of my neck." He could clearly remember the numbness that had filled his body after the vampire's venom had entered his bloodstream. After it had bitten him, he hadn't been able to fight it off. He had been helpless, and the feeling had terrified him. Then he remembered Veezara ripping the vampire away from him, killing it. After that, everything had kind of went hazy.

"How were you not turned? I heard that you could get turned by just getting scratched by one."

"I do not quite believe in that. But, I don't know, I guess it has to deal with me being a Bosmer. Our blood is often more resistant to toxins and poisons. I guess a vampire's venom is included in that," Daelos shrugged again.

 

They reached the watchtower a little while later. The twin moons had, by then, risen high in the night sky. They explored the tower, coming into contact with a necromancer.

Kusek watched as Daelos proceeded to put five arrows into the poor sod. "Overkill much?"

"I wanted to make sure he was dead," Daelos said lightly, retrieving the arrows that hadn't been damaged and placing them back in his quiver.

"Don't like necromancers much, do you?"

"Call it a 'deep-seated fear among all Bosmer.' The Green Pact taught us to fear them."

"Oh," Kusek said dumbly, he didn't know what the Green Pact was. He watched as Daelos snooped around the tower, picking up several trinkets and placing a few of the shinier pieces in his pocket.

They moved the necromancer's body, along with the body of a Khajiit, to one of the lower floors. Since the weather was nice, they set up their camp on the top floor of the tower. They ate dried jerky and helped themselves to the necromancer's food before going to sleep.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Morndas, 24th of Last Seed, 4E 201  
**

**Falkreath Watchtower, Pine Forest, Falkreath Hold Territory**

 

At some point before dawn it started thundering. Daelos, who, as usual, hadn't really been able to sleep, had heard the thunder coming. He had tried to get Kusek to hurry and get up while he was gathering his things and bringing them underneath a tent that the necromancer had set up at the top of the tower.

Daelos went over to the still snoozing Nord, kicking him in the side and rolling him off his bed roll. "Hurry and get up, Kusek. When it starts to rain, you are going to be on your own. I am not going to get wet."

"Rain? S'not raining...not even light yet." The Nord grumbled something else, but Daelos couldn't understand him.

He kicked him in the side again, causing him to grunt. "Get up already, you big oaf!"

Kusek continued to say unintelligible things. With an exasperated sigh, Daelos pulled the furs off of him and picked up his bedroll. He brought them over to the tent, leaving the Nord on the ground. He had just set the furs down next to his own belongings, and the rest of Kusek’s, when the sky opened up, water falling in thick curtains.

Daelos smirked, satisfied, as the Nord surged forward in an undignified way, sputtering at the rain water that had went up his nose. He let out a long string of curses that would make any cutthroat blush, but only served to make Daelos chuckle darkly.

Kusek staggered over to the tent, cursing the whole way. He glowered at Daelos, who was crouched at the tent’s entrance, when he reached him. Daelos stared back up at him, unaffected.

“You couldn’t think to wake me!?” Kusek asked, raising his arms and flinging rain water everywhere. With an irritated groan, he pulled his soaked shirt over his head and started to wring it out.

Daelos couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn to the Nord’s chest. He watched as water dripped down his pale skin towards his navel, traveling over well-defined muscles and a few silvery scars. He also noticed a deeper, jagged scar on his right side just below his ribs, the freshly healed flesh still slightly pink.

He forced his eyes to look back up at the Nord's now slightly pink face. “I tried,” he said with some difficulty. Then he cocked his head to the side, smirking. “You just kept muttering something about…unicorns and spriggans, was it?”

That caused Kusek to blush even more, redness spreading to his neck and tips of his ears. “I-I don’t what you’re talking about!” he stuttered. He quickly turned away and started rummaging through his things, looking for a spare shirt. “Ugh, I blame you for this! That damn necromancer is probably berating us from the afterlife.”

“And that is my fault, how, exactly?” Daelos asked sarcastically, standing and looking away towards the rain.

“You’re the one who shot him full of arrows and stole his amulet.”

“You are the one who ate his food. That amulet was probably here long before he was.”

“You ate his food, too!”

“At your insistence. I was content with just the jerky. You are just sore because you would not wake up and ended up soaked.”

When he didn't receive a response, he looked back up to see Kusek smirking at him. “You always have something to say back, don’t you?”

“A part of conversation is to have something to say, no? But, if you meant that I usually have some sort of comeback, then, I try to, yes,” Daelos said, mirroring the Nord’s smirk. He plucked up an apple from the table, sinking his teeth into it.

“So, you’re going to keep eating his food?” Kusek asked disbelievingly, trying to snatch the fruit away from him.

“There is no reason to let it go to waste, now is there?” Daelos said, easily twisting away from the Nord, his smirk turning wolfish.

 

* * *

 

When there was a break in the storm, Kusek and Daelos made their way back to Shriekwind Bastion, entering through the main door. There was another large set of double doors a little ways down the hall with a vampire lounging against it. Daelos, who had had his bow drawn way before they had even gotten close to the bastion, crouched down just inside the entrance, drawing an arrow and nocking it into his bow. He fired two shots in quick succession, one of the arrows embedding itself into the woman's chest, and the other into her skull. She was dead before she ever hit the ground.

Kusek drew his sword and cut her head off.

"That is...not really necessary, you know..." Daelos said, grimacing.

"Yeah, well, it gives me peace of mind," Kusek shrugged.

"Right..." Daelos shook his head and entered a small room that they hadn't seen from the entrance.

Kusek watched as the elf once again began rifling through everything, finding a small pouch of coins, jingling them slightly and then subtly pocketing them.

He walked over to the double doors, pushing against them. "They're locked, damn it."

Daelos came to stand beside him, testing the doors for himself. "Stand aside," he said, crouching down in front of the doors. He pulled out two slim pieces of metal from seemingly nowhere and inserted them into the lock. He fiddled them around for a moment and then gave the lock a swift jerk, and the doors swung open.

"How'd you do that?" Kusek wondered aloud, slightly impressed.

“Never heard of lockpicking before?” Daelos stood, smirking.

“Well, yes, but uh… Well, I’ve never had the patience for it,” Kusek said, crossing his arms with an embarrassed expression.

“Hmmm, patience is a useful skill—”

“—for any thief. Yes, yes, I know," Kusek waved a hand at the elf, glaring. "I don't know why you keep going on about that."

Daelos smirked slyly, walking through the open doors.

They stepped into a large room that had an old stone table covered in splatters of blood and several half-eaten corpses. Daelos walked over to the table, picking up a small vial with a strange symbol on it. He uncorked the vial, sniffing it, and then slipped it into a pocket.

“…Ugh… Do they really eat people, too?” Kusek asked, covering his mouth with a hand.

“It seems they do…” Daelos said lightly, seemingly unaffected by all the gore.

“Now I see what you meant by the smell…” Kusek spotted a lever at the other end of the table and he went over to inspect it. “Hmm, I wonder what this does.”

Daelos stepped further into the room and onto a circular platform. He looked up, cocking his head and frowning up at the metal grate that was set high into the ceiling. There were curious looking holes in the sides of the walls. Holes like the kind spikes were to shoot out of…

“Wait, Kusek! Don’t pull that lever!”

Kusek whirled to look back at him with wide eyes. He had already pulled the lever.

Daelos fell into a crouch as the platform started to move, raising him quickly towards the trap. He rolled backwards off the side, landing on the ground with a jolt, before he could be enclosed in the small pit. When the platform lowered, he sent Kusek a dark look.

“Are you alright!?” Kusek rushed over to him.

Daelos growled at him, baring his teeth.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would do that!” Kusek exclaimed, waving his arms around in the air frantically.

“That is why you do not pull random levers,” Daelos said, sill glaring daggers at him.

“Sorry…?” Kusek offered again, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Mhm.” Daelos stood from his crouch and sent the Nord one more dark look before turning and walking through another hallway that was covered in ferns and other plant life.

A Skeever came barreling down the steps at them. Daelos bashed it with his bow. Then he took a step back, shooting it through with an arrow.

“Jeez, everything is trying to kill us. Even the giant rats,” Kusek said as the elf retrieved his arrow.

“This is Skyrim,” Daelos said sarcastically, giving him a cynical look and continuing up the stairs.

They entered another long, curving hallway that looked like some sort of burial hall. There were two Skeletons at the top of yet another staircase. One of them drew a sword and charged at them while the other pulled out a bow.

Kusek met the sword bearer, hitting it over the head with his own sword, as Daelos took out the archer with a well-placed arrow. Skeletons were rather easy creatures to take care of. All it took was one good hit, and they would collapse into a pile of old, dusty bones.

They continued down the hall, and several more staircases, until they reached a large circular chamber. There were several walkways carved into the left wall. A large amount of vegetation was scattered around, and even a few small trees had managed to grow due to the light that was streaming through a large crack high in the cavern’s ceiling, setting everything in an ethereal glow.

Kusek studied the elf’s dark hair as the dim light shined off of it, making it glimmer with almost a blueish glow.

“It looks like we found our trap again,” Daelos said idly, looking through the metal grate that he had been standing underneath before. An arrow lodged itself into the ground at his feet and he jumped back, quickly sniping off the Skeletons that were shooting at them. “Damn, annoying Skeletons,” he muttered darkly from where he was still crouched on the ground.

“At least they can’t shoot as well as you do. Then we might really be in trouble,” Kusek smirked at him.

Daelos grunted, arching an eyebrow at him.

The elf went up a narrow staircase that took him up to one of the upper walkways as Kusek continued to snoop around. He pulled another lever that raised that the platform that Daelos had been standing on before.

 _It’s a good thing Dae was so quick to react_ , Kusek thought, watching as several spikes shot out of the walls, impaling anyone who would have happened to have been unlucky to be standing there. “I really should stop pulling random levers,” he grumbled to himself, imagining the sprightly elf being impaled multiple times.

He was about to follow the elf up to the walkways when two vampires jumped down from somewhere higher up, landing in front of him.

“Mmm, fresh blood! You’ll make a tasty meal!” the man snarled, pulling out a dagger and lunging at him.

Kusek brought up his sword, meeting his attack. He shoved him back and sent a slash to the vampire’s leg, causing him to go down to one knee. Then he promptly cut his head off.

The woman screeched at him, but before she could attack him, Daelos dropped down onto her shoulders, stabbing her in the back of the neck with a small blade that extended from his vambrace, severing her spine.

“Thanks for the save,” Kusek said, impressed once more, watching as the elf wiped the blood off of the slender blade on the back of the woman’s shirt. Then he flicked his wrist, making the blade retract again. Kusek had seen him use it back in Markarth, but he hadn’t thought anything of it since. It was a very easily concealed weapon. He never would have even noticed it, if, of course, he hadn’t already seen it in action.

“Mmhmm,” Daelos hummed, rummaging through the vampires’ pockets. He stood, nodding his head back towards the stairs. “There is a path that will take us further up. Come on.”

They continued up until they made it up to the top, taking out several more Skeletons and a few more vampires along the way. Kusek peered over the edge of the topmost walkway. They were at least six stories up. He took a small step back, gulping slightly. That was a long way to fall, after all.

Kusek turned back to Daelos, who was standing in front of some kind of pedestal with his arms crossed and a hand resting against his chin in a contemplative way. “This is obviously a trap of some sort,” he said.

“What makes you say that?” Kusek asked, walking over to stand beside the elf.

“From what I can tell, this lever is the only way to get that gate open. But, I don’t know, I have a bad feeling.” He reached for the lever.

“So, you’re still gonna pull the lever?” Kusek asked incredulously.

 “Yes.” Daelos cocked his head to the side, looking up at him innocently, his hand on the lever.

“What happened to not pulling random levers?”

 “It is different when you know something will happen.”

“Uh huh. You mean it’s different when you do it.”

Daelos just smirked at him in a devious way, pulling the lever.

Kusek jumped back with a yelp of surprise when fire started spouting out of the walls along the corridor in between them and the now open gate.

“Hmm.” Daelos crossed his arms over his chest again. “That was not what I was expecting.”

“And just what were you expecting?” Kusek asked, exasperated.

“Not that,” Daelos said as if it was obvious, looking over at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked back to the flames, pursing his lips slightly, thinking.

“How are we supposed to get past that?”

Daelos didn’t answer him, just continued to study the flames. “There’s a path,” he said quietly after a few moments.

“What?”

"There is a path. Through the flames.” He took a step forward. “Wait here.”

Kusek watched, terrified for the seemingly fearless elf, as Daelos weaved through the flames, sometimes bending in impossible ways to avoid the gouts of fire trying to scorch him. After several long, breath stealing moments, he made it to the end, pulling on another lever and extinguishing the flames.

He walked over to a smirking Daelos. He had nothing to say to that display, so he just shook his head and continued past the elf, causing him to chuckle darkly.

 

* * *

 

There was another set of double doors just past the gate. Daelos crouched down in front of them. He cracked them open silently, peering inside. After a few moments he closed the door back.

"There are three vampires that I can see," he told Kusek. "One of them is obviously stronger than the others, judging by his bearing. He is most likely the one who turned the rest."

"What are we gonna do?" Kusek asked quietly, crouching down next to him.

"We need to have some semblance of a plan, of course. Barging in there with a Master Vampire is just foolish." Daelos reached into a pocket, pulling out the small vial that he had picked up earlier along with an old cloth.

"What's that?"

"It is a magicka poison," he said, pouring the blueish liquid onto the cloth, careful not to get any on his skin. “There is some sort of alter in the center of the cavern. The Master Vampire is standing at it. There are two more lounging about the dais. One of them is standing close to the Master. The other is sitting on top of a dome like structure at the other end of the room. I cannot see what is inside of it, so there may be more.” He pulled out two arrows from his quiver and drew the cloth over the tips. “I only have enough for two arrows. When we open the doors, I will aim for the Master Vampire. If not taking him out, then at least tagging him with the poison. Keep him from disappearing, or using that drain magic of theirs.” He looked up at Kusek, “Do you think you can draw their attention?”

“Certainly,” the Nord grinned.

Once they were set, Daelos slowly pushed open the doors, aiming his bow at the Master Vampire.

He missed.

The vampire had seen the shot at the last moment, managing to dodge. But only barely. Instead of hitting him in between the eyes were Daelos had intended, the arrow glanced off of his shoulder. It still drew blood; he wouldn’t be able to use any kind of magic now

Kusek rushed past him, drawing his sword. Daelos nocked the other poisoned arrow, aiming it at the other vampire that had been standing on the dais. His arrow struck her in the leg, causing her to stumble towards Kusek, who swung his sword in a powerful arc, cutting her head off in a spray of blood.

As Kusek turned to face the Master Vampire, Daelos drew another arrow from his quiver. He sent the shot at the vampire who was still standing atop the dome like structure. His arrow struck true, piercing his throat. He stumbled, clutching at the fletching protruding from his neck, blood sliding past his lips as he fell from his perch.

Daelos drew his daggers, skirting the shadows around the room and waiting for his chance to strike at the Master Vampire. He watched as Kusek met the vampire blow for blow, exhibiting a sort of gracefulness Daelos had never seen from the Nord before. He was normally such a clumsy person.

He didn't move like Daelos, like a dancer Gabriella once told him, but there was definitely skill in his attacks. A sort of strength that Daelos could never hope to possess due to his slight frame. Kusek raised his two-handed sword in an overhead strike; an attack that would have left most men open and defenseless. The vampire must have thought the same, for he struck for Kusek's flank. The Nord easily pirouetted around him, bringing his sword down and striking him in the back, the vampire's armor blunting most of the damage of what would have been a crippling blow.

Daelos readied his daggers to take out the Master Vampire before he could recover, but before he could move, he felt another presence behind him. He turned just in time to avoid the fangs aiming for the back of his neck.

He swiped a dagger at the woman-the Bosmer-but she parried, striking his arm and knocking the blade from his hand. He went to slash at her with his other dagger, but she grabbed his wrist and shoved him back against the wall with unnatural speed and strength, pinning him.

He had his left hand against her throat, trying to keep those fangs away from his face.

“One of my own,” she snarled, revealing canines that no longer belonged to a Bosmer in a feral grin, pure malice shining in her changed eyes. He struggled against the female’s greater strength, baring his own teeth. If only he could move his wrist a little more… “Oh, how lovely you are! You would make a wonderful thrall. Why don’t you give up, my sweet? I could give you anything you would ever want and more! Give up, and become mine!”

“I will not…belong to anyone!” Daelos growled. In one last feat of strength, he pushed back against the other mer, managing to move his wrist just so to where it pressed against the mechanism inside of his vambrace. The trusty blade shot out into her throat and through the back of her skull. “Besides, you don’t have anything I would want anyway.” He sent his dagger through her heart just for the sake of it, and slumped back against the wall as she fell.

“Daelos! You alright?” Kusek rushed over to him, blood splattered, a dark bruise blossoming on the right side of his jaw.

Daelos looked behind the Nord to where the Master Vampire lay lifeless in a pool of dark blood, his head missing. He scoffed. The damn Nord and his stupid superstitious nonsense. Vampires die just like any other person.

“Uh… Daelos?” Kusek asked, slightly concerned. “That vampire didn’t addle your brains, did it?”

“I’m fine, Kusek. Thank you for caring,” he said sweetly, giving the Nord a cunning smirk.

“Of—of course I care! Why wouldn’t I care?”

Daelos picked up his fallen daggers, chuckling as the Nord continued to stumble over his words, and slipped them back into their scabbards at his lower back. His smile fell as he turned back to Kusek, seeing the bruise on his face. He stepped closer to the Nord and reached out, taking his chin in his hand, his bloodstained fingers brushing slightly against his jaw, smearing blood across his skin. He tilted his head to the side at the sight of the red staining his pale skin, oblivious to the way the Nord’s eyes were darting across his face.

He pulled his hand back after a moment, frowning at his own actions. Reaching in to the pack that was slung across his shoulders, he pulled out a small metal tin that was filled with a healing slave. “Here,” he said, handing the tin to Kusek, avoiding his eyes. “It will help with the bruising."

“Thanks.”

Daelos ducked his face into his scarf, walking through the entrance to the dome structure and leaving Kusek to stare after him with a strange expression.

There was a spiral staircase that led…somewhere. Daelos walked past it, his focus drawn to the large chest that sat across the landing. He made quick work of the lock as Kusek came to stand beside him. He opened the chest, pocketing a pouch of coins that held at least a hundred Septims, and pulled out an Orcish styled short sword. He flipped it in his hands, extending it hilt first to Kusek. “You should take it,” he said. “I have enough blades. It is always wise for one to keep an extra sword on their person.”

“Thank you,” Kusek grinned at him, admiring the macabre craftsmanship of the sword. Though their weapons seemed ghoulish in appearance, Orcs certainly knew how to make them.

Daelos ducked his head again, walking towards the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they entered a large rectangular chamber. Several stone columns lined the walls, some of them crumbling and scattered across the ground, others still standing in their eternal vigil. Bird like statues sat at each column’s base, the lit candles resting on top of them casting them in an eerie glow. A sarcophagus lay at the other end of the room with a strange curved wall behind it.

As they made their way through the chamber, the sarcophagus sprang open, a draugr crawling its way out. Kusek drew his new sword and had the shambling creature dispatched before it could even fully stand.

Daelos stood behind the sarcophagus, staring at the wall across from it. It was covered in ancient Nordic engravings. A strange symbol adorned the center of the wall, reminding Daelos vaguely of a serpent. There were words carved at the bottom in a language that he couldn’t decipher. It almost seemed…familiar, in a way. As if he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember where.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Kusek asked, coming to stand beside him.

“It’s…chanting.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Kusek said, becoming concerned at the stricken sound of Daelos’s voice. “Daelos, what is it?”

Daelos didn’t answer him. He wasn’t even listening anymore. His attention was fully drawn to the wall that was speaking its ancient words. It was almost as if it was calling out to him. Beckoning him to come forward.

Almost as if he were in a trance, Daelos stepped forward, reaching out his arm. The wall started to glow as he got closer, the chanting becoming louder as he pressed his hand against the rough stone. Tendrils of blue and white magic sprouted from the wall, extending up his arm to envelope his whole body.

He stumbled back, dropping to his knees and clutching at his head as words screamed through his mind, trying to enlist in him a knowledge that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Images that he couldn’t make out flashed through his vision. It was overwhelming. And it _hurt._ He grit his teeth, letting out an involuntary cry of pain as he felt like his head was being ripped apart.

 

When he finally came back to himself, it was to Kusek standing over him and calling out his name, his hands braced on his shoulders, shaking him.

He jerked back, striking out at the Nord who fell backwards, dodging his clumsy punch.

“Hey, hey! Easy! Are you alright?” Kusek asked, worry written across his face.

“You--?” _He didn’t see it? What the hell?_ Daelos leaned back against the sarcophagus, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend what just happened. He checked himself over, letting out a small sigh of relief when nothing seemed out of place.

Kusek hadn’t seen what he had witnessed. He hadn’t heard the chanting either. It didn’t matter. Daelos was fine. The wall didn’t seem to do anything to him. But, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was changed.

“You alright?” Kusek asked again.

“I’m fine.” Daelos stood, bracing himself against the sarcophagus to keep himself standing.

“Are you sure?” Kusek asked, hovering over him as if he would collapse again. “You seem pretty shaken.”

“I’m fine. I just…need a moment.”

“What happened?’

“I don’t know,” Daelos answered honestly, glancing back over to the strange wall. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” He turned away from the still unconvinced Nord and walked off to try and find an exit.

 

* * *

 

The two had went to leave, but when they opened the doors to the bastion, a huge gust of wind and icy rain had rushed through, forcing them back inside.

It had also grown dark by that point, so they had decided to stay, agreeing that it was too dangerous to travel at night, let alone in the rain.

Daelos had disappeared again at some point, Kusek not realizing he was gone. He was probably just exploring as he was, Kusek told himself, trying not to worry about the missing elf. Kusek found some old wood that they would be able to burn and brought it back to the dome structure where they had decided to set their camp, since Daelos hadn’t wanted to stay in the room with the strange wall.

He was worried about the little Bosmer. Daelos had said something about the wall speaking or chanting, or something. Then he had screamed and collapsed, and wouldn’t respond to Kusek at all. He had almost sobbed in relief as Daelos finally came back, pale and looking as if he had seen a ghost. Something had happened, but the stubborn elf refused to admit anything was wrong.

His thoughts were disrupted as he heard a sound coming from somewhere else in the sanctum. He looked up to see Daelos walk through the archway with his bow slung over his shoulder and two hares in his left hand.

“Where’d you find those?” Kusek asked, confused.

“A little ways in. They apparently crawled through a hole in the roof, trying to escape the storm.”

“And inevitably into the sights of your bow,” Kusek smirked. _At least I’ll never go hungry when he’s around._

Daelos returned his smirk and sat down across from him. Pulling out his knife, he started to skin the larger of the two hares.

“I think I saw an old kettle somewhere earlier,” Kusek said. “And there was a well somewhere with some decent looking water in it. I could go get some and we could make a stew.”

“That would be good. I found some dried herbs that should still be good to use, as well. …I also found a closet full of old boots.”

“Boots?”

“Yes. Some men’s. Women’s… Even some children’s. It seems the vampires liked keeping trophies.”

They shared a grimace.

Kusek finished setting up the fire and found the kettle. Then he went to find the well, wherever it was, keeping an eye out for that closet, cursing his own morbid curiosity.

Kusek brought back a little extra for Daelos to wash the meat with, and for them to use to clean up. When he returned, Daelos was cutting up the meat into little chunks. He set the kettle down, filling it with water, and brought the extra over to Daelos, who gave him a mumbled “thank you.”

He went to go light the fire next, but the devious little elf sent a spark of electricity out, igniting the wood and nearly setting Kusek on fire. Again.

And he most certainly did NOT squeal like a little child. Nope. He did not. Not at all.

Kusek sent the elf a dark look. Daelos let out a deep chuckle, the corners of his lips quirking up slightly.

Okay. Kusek could forgive him for that. After all, he got to see that beautiful smirk. As wicked as it was at the moment.

After the stew cooked, they sat at the fire eating in a comfortable silence.

“Mhm. Could use more flavor,” Daelos said, giving his bowl a criticizing look.

“You’re just a little food critic, aren’t you?” Kusek said with a smirk.

“What can I say? I enjoy good food.” Daelos tilted his head to the side in that curious manner of his and set his bowl down. As usual, he finished before Kusek.

“How do you eat so fast?” Kusek asked, dubious.

“Force of habit. Can’t really help it.” Daelos stood up from his seat and walked over to his pack which lay next to his bedroll and pulled out a small metal tin and an old stained rag. Then he picked up his daggers and came back to sit on the old stool he had claimed for himself. He unsheathed one of the blades and pulled in onto his lap and began the meticulous process of cleaning it.

The blades were made of a sleek black metal. Ebony Kusek guessed, but he wasn’t sure. The edges gleamed wickedly in the firelight.

The blade, not including the hilt, was about as long as Kusek’s own forearm, and curved almost delicately. The hilt and blade itself were carved in intricate designs, similar to the ones on his armor and bow.

Kusek could tell that he took good care of his things, as Daelos carefully cleaned the dried blood from the vampires they had encountered before. Kusek had been engaged with one when two others had appeared, but before he could turn to face them, Daelos had taken them both out with a well-placed arrow to one’s eye and a deep slash to the other’s throat.

Daelos was something else when he fought. Kusek could tell that the elf preferred to keep to his bow, as most Bosmer do, but when he brought out those twin daggers, he was all grace and swiftness.

 _Savage, yet beautiful,_ Kusek thought. _I hope that I never have to have a reason to cross him. I would hate to find myself at the end of those blades._

“What is it?” Daelos asked when he noticed he was being stared at.

“Nothing,” he said too quickly for his liking. “I just noticed how well you take care of your weapons.”

“Take care of a weapon, and it will take care of you,” Daelos said, matter of factly, slipping the dagger back into its scabbard.

Kusek leaned back in his own chair, noticing the lines of ink on the elf’s bare arms. He had stripped himself of his leather armor to clean it, leaving him wearing a dark green sleeveless tunic and brown pants. The dark lines spread across the back of his shoulders and down the sides of his arms. He even saw them stretching along his collarbones where the front of his shirt had dipped down slightly while he was working. He hadn't noticed them before in Falkreath, but granted, he had been occupied at the time. He wondered what they depicted.

Daelos wore a lot of earthly colors. It suited him Kusek decided. The dark green contrasted with his blue eyes, making them stand out even more in the dim light. Though that may have just been because it was dark. Kusek had noticed how the elf’s eyes seemed to glow at nighttime.

Kusek looked over to his own armor which was laying on the ground next to him. It was starting to rust more. He would have to replace it soon. Daelos had split the coin he had found with him. He would have enough to get some made. Maybe he would commission a nice set of Orcish armor to match his new sword.

 

* * *

 

That night Daelos fell asleep within moments of his head hitting the bedroll. An unusual feat for him. He also dreamed. A different kind of nightmare from his usual sort.

He dreamt of war. Of men fighting and dying across a battlefield. Winged serpents flew above them, beating their wings and roaring ancient words that thundered in the air.

Daelos woke with a jolt, the sickening feeling of falling lingering in his gut, and the scent of blood and burning flesh filling his nose. He looked over to the still slumbering Nord who he had just witnessed die in his arms after being ripped apart by a giant maw of sharp teeth. And then his own death of falling from a great height, waking mere moments from hitting the ground.

He took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall and staring at the dimming fire. He wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for this chapter, for it is a bit of a filler one. I needed something to go inbetween the previous chapter and the next few, so this happened. Hopefully I get a few points for character development.

**Tirdas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**The Road Between Falkreath and Helgen**

 

Sunrise had the two back on the road on their way to Helgen. Daelos had been quiet all morning, quieter than usual. He hadn't spoken at all during breakfast, a sullen silence spreading around him. He had hardly eaten, too. Normally the elf could easily out eat Kusek even though he was only half his size. He had eaten less than a few bites and then continued to stir his food around in his bowl as he stared at the last of the coals from the fire.

Kusek noticed the dark circles underneath the elf's eyes. He knew that Daelos didn't sleep much. He could tell when he was actually asleep, for he would lay sprawled out on his stomach and bundled up in his furs, instead of just simply laying on his back when he wasn't. But that morning, when Kusek had woken, Daelos had already been awake, propped up against the wall, watching him with a strange expression. Every time that Kusek had tried engage him in conversation or ask him what was wrong, Daelos either flat out ignored him or answered in short, clipped words. He eventually stopped trying to get him to talk altogether.

He wondered what happened. He thought they had been getting along just fine. He had gotten Daelos to talk to him more, and had even managed to get an actual smile out of him a few times (A real smile, not the smirk he would put on for show sometimes, one that would make the corners of his eyes turn up, and the icy-blue soften and turn as warm as a summer sky), as small as they were, and only when he thought Kusek wasn't watching. He thought about their snowball fight from a few days before, and how fiendishly the elf had acted. He smiled at the thought of it. He hoped he could bring that side out of him again. It was refreshing to see the normally so calm and reserved elf act so animated.

Kusek hoped that he and Daelos would continue to travel together. There was just something about Daelos that Kusek was attracted to. (And it wasn't just the fact that the elf was absolutely stunning to look at.) He had hoped that they were becoming friends, but considering how Daelos was acting today, a flicker of doubt had spread through Kusek.

He looked over to the elf. Daelos had his hood drawn low over his face, and his grey scarf pulled up to cover part of his chin, completely masking his features, an action that Kusek had learned over the last few days meant that either Daelos was angry or something was bothering him.

The rain from the night before had left a chill in the air. Autumn was on its way, and soon the long, bitter winter that Skyrim was famous for. Kusek often forgot how those not native to Skyrim couldn't tolerate the cold as well as he could. He wasn't even wearing sleeves on his armor, and he didn't even feel the slightest bit cold.

Kusek kicked at a rock as they walked, watching as it skittered away. It irked him to no end, not knowing what was wrong. It reminded him of when they were in Falkreath and when Daelos had that nightmare of his, and the way the elf had completely shut down for a few hours. Perhaps that was what was wrong. Did he have another nightmare?

 

 

They stopped around midday for lunch. They sat underneath a tall pine, the ground underneath it dry and clear of rocks. Kusek was eating some of the hard jerky that Daelos had made from some leftover venison. Daelos had only nibbled on a piece for a bit, then sat back drinking from a skin of water. He still wore his hood, but had it pulled back slightly, allowing Kusek to see his face. The elf was still wearing that troubled expression.

"Is something bothering you, Daelos?" Kusek asked, tired of waiting for the elf to speak to him.

"Hmm? Oh, no."

"Then what's wrong?"

Daelos stared at him for a moment, the undecipherable look in his eyes turning the normally bright blue into a dull grey. He shook his head, looking down at his hands. "Nothing. I just...didn't sleep well, is all?"

"Oh, am I haunting you dreams now?" Kusek tried to joke. Daelos jerked his head up to look at him, and Kusek's smirk fell at the look in his eyes, making him wonder if his words hit truer than he thought. "What is it...?"

"N-nothing." Daelos quickly looked away, a frown making the scar on the left side of his face twist slightly.

"C'mon, Dae? I know it's not nothing. You've hardly said a word all morning. You can talk to me, y'know?" Kusek said, trying to catch the elf's eye.

"It's nothing," Daelos said, slightly defensive. "Just forget about it."

"Forget about it?" Kusek snapped, making the elf jump and look up at him in shock. Kusek had never spoken to him like that before. "How can I forget about something when it seems to be bothering my friend so?"

A different expression crossed Daelos's eyes then, one filled with pain and something else that Kusek couldn't decipher. The expression only lasted a second before his face went completely blank again, as if he donned a mask. Now, Daelos sat across from Kusek, completely still except for the way the fingers on his left hand twitched, his face stony and his eyes like ice. He looked as if ready to bolt.

Kusek sighed, rubbing at his forehead. He hadn't meant to snap at him. Daelos was probably angry at him now. He had just become so irritated at not even knowing what the elf was thinking. Usually, Kusek had no problem figuring people out. But Daelos? He was an enigma. Kusek could never read him, no matter how hard he tried. "Talos. I'm sorry, Dae. It's just...I hate it whenever it seems something is bothering you. And I can never know what you're thinking."

"It is alright," Daelos said, relaxing slightly, that strange expression that made Kusek even more concerned flashing through his eyes again. "You don't have to explain yourself. I know I can be...difficult at times. I have never been that great when it comes to talking to others." He looked down at his half-eaten meal and started to pick at the edges of the jerky, pulling off small pieces.

"that's an understatement," Kusek said, giving the elf a small smile when he glared at him halfheartedly.

Daelos returned his small smile, huffing slightly. "Just...let me work it out on my own, okay? It's really nothing that you need to worry about."

Kusek sighed again, but nodded anyway. "Okay."

 

 

After they finished eating, Daelos actually eating his meal this time, they set back on the road. Daelos left his hood down, which Kusek took as a good sign. Kusek started rambling on about random things to fill the silence. Things about the weather, the animals, or the area, sometimes earning an amused snort from the elf. He even told Daelos about how, when he was younger, he, he sister, and a few of their friends would sneak up to Orphan Rock to play 'spot the hag.'

"Were you not worried? What if you had actually found one?"Daelos asked quietly, surprising Kusek.

"We were boys," Kusek laughed. "We didn't really worry about such things. But my sister did," he said fondly. "She ended up telling out aunt, and she quickly put an end to that."

"You have a sister," Daelos stated more than asked.

"Yep. Her name's Karelka. We grew up in Riverwood. It's not too far from Helgen, actually. We stayed with my cousin and his family after our mother died. Hmm, I wonder how she's doing. It's been what...five years since I last seen her."

"Why did you leave?"

"I was stupid and young, barely into adulthood. I wanted to see the world, live the life of an adventurer and all that. You know how it goes.

"Mhm."

"It would be nice to go visit her. She would like you, I think." Kusek stopped, looking back at the elf.

Daelos shrunk back a bit. "Uh...I don't know about that. I am...not usually a likeable person."

"Nonsense, I like you," he said with a grin. "And Karelka likes everybody. Perhaps we could visit them after this bandit business?"

Daelos ducked his head into his scarf. "...Perhaps."

 

* * *

 

Daelos hadn't known Kusek had a sister. But then again, he had never asked. He was surprised of how little he knew of the Nord. With how much he talked, one would think they would know everything about him.

He wondered what it would be like to have a sister. The closest thing he had ever had to siblings were Suou and Souka. He missed the twins. They had been inseparable, where one was the other was always nearby. Suou was always dragging him and his sister into all kinds of trouble. That had inevitably eded up being their end.

He stopped himself before his thoughts could run darker. Kusek was worried enough as it was. The Nord was trying his hardest not to let Daelos's mood get to him, so Daelos tried to lighten up a bit, for his sake. Kusek didn't deserve to be lashed out at.

He wasn't too sure about the meeting his sister part, but Kusek seemed excited about the idea. He didn't think he would make a very goo first impression. (Seriously, just look at him. Nothing about him screamed nice.) He thought about telling Kusek that he would just wait while he visited his family, but he figured the Nord probably wouldn't have it. He sighed.

"What?" Kusek looked back at him.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. ...Just thinking."

"About what?" Daelos considered brushing the question off, but decided to answer. "I was...wondering what your sister would be like."

"You're still worried about that?"

Daelos nodded.

"Don't worry, you'll like her. And I'm sure she'll like you, too."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Daelos mumbled. "But if you say so."

 

 

At some point Daelos ended up taking the lead, leading them along a path through the trees that only he could see. Kusek was behind him, complaining every time he tripped.

"Why couldn't we stay on the road?" he whined.

"Do you want to find the bandits?"

"Uh, yes."

"Do you think that they would just camp on the road?"

"...No, I guess not."

"Exactly." Daelos sent a smirk at the Nord, who just grumbled again.

They stopped at the edge of a small ledge. Daelos crouched low and pulled his bow from his back, jerking Kusek down with him. Kusek was about to ask what was wrong when Daelos shushed him and pointed.

There were two wolves sitting near a small stream at the bottom of the small gorge. He pulled two arrows from his quiver, setting one in between his teeth and the other he nocked onto his bow.

He took aim. Kusek wondered if he would be able to hit them at this distance. One, silver in color, was sitting with its back to them. The other, a deep black, was lying curled up next to it. He watched as Daelos took in a breath and drew the bowstring back.

Kusek was about to express his doubt when Daelos let the arrow fly. It his its mark in the back of the silver wolf's head and it crumpled. The black wolf jumped up in surprise only to have an arrow lodge itself between its golden eyes.

Kusek stared at Daelos in shock.

Daelos looked up at him innocently. "Is there something wrong?"

"How the hell did you make that shot!? There is no way in Oblivion that any normal person could do that!"

"I guess I am not a normal person then. I am a really good shot," Daelos said nonchalantly, sitting back on his heels.

"You think!? I couldn't shoot a bow to save my life."

"It takes practice. It's taken me a few decades to be able to shoot as well as I do." Daelos stood up, stretching the tension from his shoulders.

"Decades? Wait, how old are you?"

"I am...not sure to be honest." He thought for a moment. "I remember when the Aldmeri Dominion invaded Cyrodiil. I watched as they crossed the Niben, surrounding the Imperial City. I remember me, and few other streetrats trying to survive as people starved on the streets due to the Thalmor cutting off supply routes. It didn't take long for the city to fall after that. It took all we had for the few of us left to survive. That was almost...thirty years ago. I was but a child at the time. I don't know how old, five or six perhaps; old enough to remember. All I know is that my birthdate is on Saturalia." Several years later was when he had met Suou and Souka. He had been injured on a job. They had found him barely clinging to life and had saved him, nursing him back to health.

Kusek gave a thoughtful hum. "So, you're birthday's on Saturalia. I'll have to remember that." He grinned at Daelos.

Daelos gave an uncomfortable shrug.

"So how long did it take for you to learn how to use a bow?"

Daelos chuckled. "I was shooting at nobles with a slingshot as soon as a could hold one. I was probably in my early teens by the time I was strong enough to pull the string back on a bow. The first bow I ever held was made from a birch sapling, poorly made it held enough for me to learn. After a while, I managed to swipe a steel reinforced one, like the kind a soldier would use. Then I was shooting arrows at those nobles, watching as they panicked as an arrow landed at their feet and jumped about wondering where on Mundas it could have come from."

"You were never caught?" Kusek asked with a fond smile as Daelos reminisced with the fond memories.

A proud smirk appeared on the elf's face as he said, "Never."

Kusek chuckled at him. "I wonder how long it would take for me to learn. I've always wanted to, but I never had the skill for it."

"How old are you?" Daelos asked, genuinely curious. He realized he hadn't really asked the Nord much about himself.

"Twenty-four. And my birthday's the fifth of Sun's Dusk, in case you were wondering," Kusek said with a wink.

Daelos ignored the wave of heat that filled his face, hoping that it didn't show through his olive skin and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Hmm. If I started to teach you now... Maybe by the time you were sixty, you could shoot as well as I do."

Kusek laughed. "Ha! by the time I'm that old, I probably wouldn't even be able to draw the bowstring."

Daelos chuckled, "Perhaps."

They made their way down towards the two wolves. Kusek marveled at the way Daelos gracefully made his way down.

"So how long do elves generally live for?"

"Depends on the elf," Daelos said. "I know a Dunmer who is around 250 years old. And then I have heard of some mer living to a couple thousand, although they were powerful mages."

"Wow. I wonder what it would be like to live that long."

"Lonely...I would think," Daelos said sadly, pausing at the edge of a steep drop. "Knowing that you've outlived some of your closest friends." Friends. Did he consider Kusek his friend?"

 _It wouldn't be so bad. To have his as a friend._ Daelos thought distantly of Suou. He would have liked Kusek. Kusek reminded him of the hot tempered Bosmer, with his fiery red hair and outgoing personality. The Nord could certainly talk as much as he did.

Kusek gave him an understanding look. "Perhaps you're right."

"So, how long do you think you'll live to?" Kusek asked to lighten the mood.

"Who knows? I could live to a thousand years or maybe a few centuries. Or perhaps only a few more decades. Maybe less or more? Like I said, it all depends on the individual." Daelos jumped the last few feet down, landing catlike. Kusek followed in a much clumsier manner.

Daelos stooped next to the fallen wolves and rested a hand on a black shoulder. He had aimed to make their passing painless. The wolves of Skyrim were larger and so much more ferocious that any others that Daelos has ever seen, attacking people on the road for no reason. But Daelos didn't like inflicting unnecessary pain. The only reason he had killed them was for their hides; they would provide him with much needed coin. He pulled out his slim hunting knife and set to skinning them.

He wondered if this was how his life was going to be now; exploring ruins for treasure and hunting for food and coin. He didn't plan on completing those contracts that Nazir gave, save for the one he had already completed of course courtesy of the fact that his target had been at Shriekwind Bastion. He was considering not going back to the Dark Brotherhood at all.

Gabriella and Babette would miss him, he knew. Maybe even Katria, an Altmer who was the only novice of the group that was there at the time when Daelos first arrived that had survived Astrid's brutal training.

He was burned out. Tired. Tired of killing, sometimes innocent people, only for a handful of coins. Tired of Astrid's games.

Perhaps he would tell Gabriella, he owed the Dunmer that much at least. He wouldn't tell Astrid though. The last person who had tried to leave had ended up gutted before he could take two steps away. He knew that Astrid would send assassins after him, but he was confident he could take whoever she sent, either by killing them or by persuading them to leave him alone. Daelos was one of the strongest after all.

 _She would probably go after Kusek as well, if she knew of our affiliation,_ Daelos thought darkly after a moment. He wondered if he and the Nord would continue to travel together, or if their paths would diverge. Maybe they could leave Skyrim. Daelos wouldn't want to go back to Cyrodiil, there were too many memories there for him. Maybe they could go to Valenwood, his homeland that he has never seen.

Daelos hoped they would stay together, but he quelled his hope, knowing it probably wouldn't last.

 _I wonder what he would do if he learned what I am._ Kusek didn't have the slightest idea. He saw Daelos as nothing but a simple thief, partly because that's what Daelos has shown him, and partly because that was what he was, or used to be. Daelos knew that he would find out sooner or later, especially if they were to continue to travel together, and if Astrid were to send someone after him. He didn't like deceiving Kusek, but he wanted to hold on to whatever this _thing_ was that was going on between them. For as long as he could. But no matter what happened, he would protect Kusek with everything he had, he realized, slightly shocked at himself. Yes. He would protect the Nord, whether it was from others, or himself.

"You can't really use the meat for anything, can you?" Kusek stated more that asked, jogging Daelos out of  his thoughts.

"Can make some really good jerky, but I don't have the things required to make it."

"Don't Bosmer have some kind of law about hunting or something?"

"The Green Pact? Yes, but it applies mostly in Valenwood. Some Bosmer outside of Valenwood choose to follow the pact, but I don't."

"Why not?"

"It can be rather inconvenient at times. And I enjoy food to much to only eat meat." He gave Kusek a wolfish smirk. "Besides, I don't particularly enjoy participating in cannibalism." He thought of what would have happened if he had followed the Green Pact. He would have had to eat every single person he had ever assassinated. He shuddered inwardly at the thought.

He watched Kusek's face pale slightly. "Oh..."

Daelos chuckled. He rolled up the two furs and tied them to his pack.

 

 

They had been walking for about thirty minutes or so before Daelos paused.

"Do you hear that?" Daelos asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, no. Not more of that shite that you can hear, but I can't."

"No, you oaf. Listen," he pointed. "There are people. Come on."

Daelos crested a small hill and crouched at the top, Kusek following close behind him. There was a large camp nestled at the bottom, hills on either side. Several large tents were set up in the center, and makeshift walls were set up around the camp. People were bustling to and fro, each with a different task. Some were carrying things, while others were walking around with purpose in their strides. There were also some horses tied up on one side of the camp.

His eyes narrowed on the horses. “…Hmm.”

“Stormcloaks,” Kusek said from beside him.

“Hmm?” Daelos looked up, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s a Stormcloak camp.”

Daelos rolled his eyes. “Is it? I had not realized. I thought it was that bandit camp we were looking for.”

“They’re obviously not bandits,” Kusek said, giving him a strange look.

“Oh? What makes you figure that?”

“I think the bear insignia on their cloaks and tents are a dead giveaway.”

“Is that what that is? I thought they were just weird gold globs.” Daelos tilted his head to the side, pretending to contemplate.

“Really? You’re the one with the better eyesight, and you couldn’t—” Kusek stopped when he saw his amusement and wolfish smirk. Daelos snickered as the realization crossed the Nord’s face.

“Arse…” Kusek glowered.

Daelos chuckled again. “I do enjoy making fun of you so,” he purred, making Kusek look away. He looked back over to the horses, crossing his arms. “Hmm.”

“What are you looking at?” Kusek asked, clearing his throat.

“The horses.”

“What about them?”

“I was thinking we could…liberate one.”

“Steal a horse? Are you crazy?” Kusek looked at him as if he did indeed think him crazy. “We’d never make it out the camp!”

“You idiot. Do you never plan anything? Or do you always just barge in, sword swinging.” He glanced down at a certain little ‘sword’, arching an eyebrow. Kusek’s face reddened again. His mouth opened and closed several times, the Nord utterly speechless. He settled for glaring at Daelos. Daelos stared back up at him, unfazed, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “You underestimate me, Kusek. We would wait until dark, when everyone is asleep. I would sneak in, of course, because you are shite at stealth. Lead the horse out. They would be none the wiser. Until they woke up the next morning, of course. But by then we would be miles away, riding off into the sunrise,” he gestured dramatically.

“Why do you want to steal a horse?”

“For one, it would make travel a lot easier. All this walking is terrible for my feet,” he tsked.

“That’s because of those boots you’re wearing. Can those even be called boots? They’re weird looking.”

“Excuse me for preferring leather soles to steel ones. I made them for climbing.” His ear twitched. “And they are rather comfortable, if I do say so myself.”

“Uh-huh. And?”

“And what?”

“What’s the other reason?”

Daelos smirked evilly, his canines glinting. “I enjoy taking things that do not belong to me.”

“We’re not stealing their horses.”

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s…it’s—”

“Wrong?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, Kusek—”

“No.”

“Why? They have plenty of them. What is one less?”

“We are NOT stealing a horse.” Kusek crossed his arms over his chest.

Daelos scowled at him. “…Fine.” He sighed, sending a longing look over to the beautiful gray mare he’d had his eye on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah they've evolved into insulting each other.
> 
> I also apologize if I got some of the history wrong. I had searched a bit on the Skyrim wiki trying to work on a back story for Daelos, but I may have some of it wrong, so please feel free to correct me if i did.
> 
> And for the elves and age thing, I couldn't really find anything concrete that said how long they live for. I searched all over the place and everything I found said something different, so I kind of just made it up as I went.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead after all. ^~^

**Tirdas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Falkreath Stormcloak Camp**

 

Kusek sighed at the elf, earning another glare. He didn't know what was up with Daelos and always wanting to steal things. But he guessed that had to do with him actually being a thief. Daelos was always picking up random things. The elf had a whole stash of jewelry that he thought Kusek didn't know about.

Kusek looked over the camp. He paused when he spotted a certain blonde head. "Is that...Ralof?"

"You know him?" Daelos asked when he spotted who Kusek was looking at.

"Yeah. Grew up with 'im." Kusek laughed, "Hells, he's practically my brother." He stood up from where they were crouched and starting making his way down the hill.

"Wait." Kusek turned back to Daelos, who had his arm raised in an aborted motion as if he was going to take his arm. "Where are you going?'

"I'm going to go say hello. What else?"

"I...don't know if that is wise." Daelos looked down warily to the camp.

"You were the one who was wanting to waltz down there a steal a horse a minute ago."

The elf glared at him. "Concealing your prescence and announcing it are two different things."

“Right, ‘course it is. C’mon, I’m just going to go say hello to him a bit. You don’t even have to speak if you don’t want to.”

“…Alright.” Daelos finally relented, casting one more unsure look at the Stormcloak camp.

Kusek grinned at him, pulling the hood of his own cloak up. “Let’s go,” he said, starting down the hill.

 

* * *

 

 

Kusek walked through the camp, Daelos following behind him and slightly to his right, in his shadow. Most of the inhabitants payed them no mind, too busy with their tasks to pay two cloaked persons any attention.

He spotted Ralof again, his back to him. Hunched over a table looking through some documents.

“Hey, Daelos?” he whispered, turning back to the elf.

“Hmm?”

“Can I borrow your dagger for a moment?”

Daelos frowned at him from underneath his hood. He stared at him strangely for a moment, looking to Ralof and back to him. He looked like he was going to object, but reached back and unsheathed his dagger all the same, handing it hilt first to Kusek.

Kusek smirked at him wickedly. “Thank you.”

He turned back to Ralof, who was still unaware. He crept up behind him and slid the dagger against his throat, the other Nord going completely still with shock. “Well, well, well, it looks like I’ll get to have my payback for all those times you used to beat me up.”

Ralof let out a breath, shoving Kusek back. “Damn it, Kusek! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?”

Kusek laughed. “Well, that is the point of trying to scare someone, isn’t it, Ralof?”

 The other Nord glared at him. “I hate you.”

He laughed again. “I missed you, too, brother.”

Daelos chuckled quietly on Ralof’s behalf. He didn’t know Kusek could be so stealthy.

Ralof scoffed, shaking his head. “It has been a long time.” He took Kusek’s arm when he offered it, placing his other hand on his shoulder. “How have you been, Kusek?”

“I have been well. How about you? What are you doing here?” he gestured around at the camp.

Ralof gave a self-depreciating laugh. “Oh, you know how it goes. Not all of us can go off and be adventurers.” Ralof nodded at Kusek’s appearance. “Got to make coin somehow, no?”

“But joining the rebellion, Ralof?”

“Hey now, you don’t go on judging my decisions, and I won’t judge your own,” Ralof said with a spark of irritation.

Kusek raised his hands in a placating manner.

Ralof scoffed, shaking his head again. “Yeah, his speeches sure sounded pretty, but now I don’t know…”

“What do you mean?”

Ralof didn’t get to continue as Ulfric Stormcloak himself started walking towards them.

 

Daelos has met Ulfric Stormcloak before. He would have preferred to have never met the man again. He was everything that embodied a Nord. A selfish, muscle-headed, racist bastard that only cared for his own self gain.

_Well, not every Nord,_ Daelos though, glancing at the back of Kusek’s auburn head. _Not at all._

Seeing him again, the confident swagger to his stride, the smug grin, the cold steel of his eyes, Daelos’ impression of the man did not improve. He sneered, wondering why he had even considered doing the man’s dirty work. He knew why at the time of course; he hadn’t cared. He was headed down a dark path then. He carefully lifted his dagger back from Kusek’s loose grip.

As Ulfric drew closer to them, Daelos took a step further behind Kusek, putting the Nord between him and the warleader, and making sure his hood covered his very recognizable eyes.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the spark of recognition that lit up Ulfric’s eyes as he stared at him, his smirk widening. “Well now, Ralof. Who is this fine young man?” he asked, gesturing towards Kusek.

“I’m Kusek,” Kusek said with a nod.

“Well met, then, Kusek,” Ulfric said, extending a hand for Kusek to shake. Kusek stared at his own hand for a moment in bewilderment before returning the grip. “I’m Ulfric Stormcloak.” He puffed out his chest as if waiting for the astonishment. One that never came. “Are you here to join our little revolution, perhaps?”

“No, I’m not.” A spark of…something flitted through Daelos, easing the tension a bit from his shoulders, as he noted the silent derision in Kusek’s voice. “I’m only here to see on old friend,” Kusek nodded towards Ralof.

“I see. That’s unfortunate. I could use a man such as you. You’d make a fine warrior.”

_He is already a fine warrior,_ Daelos said to himself, thinking of their last few days together. He didn’t like the way that Ulfric was looking at Kusek, like he was sizing up a prized hunting hound, taking in the two swords that sat comfortable at his hips, the greatsword peeking over his right shoulder, the easy way that he held his weight. Daelos took a possessive step forward before he could stop himself.

A step that did not go unmarked by Ulfric. His smirk turned cruel.

“And what about you, Kiyan? Would you consider joining me?”

Kusek looked over his shoulder at him in confusion about the name, that quickly turned into concern at his utter stillness and the way he was glaring at Ulfric. Like a predator waiting to strike. He noticed the dagger that he had been holding in his hand, pressed flat against the inside of his forearm, out of sight from the others.

“I do not think so,” Daelos said, a sharp edge to his voice.

“A pity,” Ulfric chuckled, “I certainly could use someone of your…particular skillset.”

“I am sure.”

Kusek frowned further at that insinuation, the information furthering his own suspicions. Kusek didn’t want to believe it. He had had an inkling from the start about just who Daelos was. The silence and stillness that filled the air around him, the way that he could just disappear out of thin air, the skill he had with his weapons. It all spoke more than being just a simple thief. It didn’t help that on that first night in Markarth, Kusek had felt the whisper of that dagger on his own throat. He hadn’t been as asleep at Daelos had thought. He had been prepared to jump up and grab that blade before the elf could finish the stroke, but Daelos pulled the dagger away. Kusek had watched through slitted eyes as the elf had merely sheathed the dagger and stalked back to his little corner of the room. He had simply ignored it. Had wanted to ignore it.

“Do you two happen to know each other?” Kusek asked, looking cautiously between Daelos and Ulfric.

“Not at all,” Daelos answered at the same time Ulfric said, “You could say that.”

Ralof felt a wave of unease about the shadowed man. He hadn’t even noticed him at first, standing slightly behind Kusek like a second shadow. Not until he had taken that protective step towards Kusek. He had tensed when he had spoken, a hand twitching towards his axe. His voice was as dark and shadowed as his appearance. Soft, but just like the iciness of his eyes, promising violence towards Ulfric. There was some sort of history between the two, Ralof knew, and not one full laughs and hugs. Kusek realized the same, judging from how carefully he was watching them.

Ralof flinched when the dagger that Kusek had held to his throat in jest appeared in the man’s hand, looking much more dangerous as he skillfully spun it, returning it to…somewhere. He couldn’t spot a single weapon on the man except for the bow peeking over his right shoulder, and even then, he still didn’t see the quiver that went with it. Somehow that made him seem even more threatening.

Ulfric chuckled again. “No matter,” he said, turning away from Daelos, disregarding him. He turned back to Kusek, assessing again. “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave you alone until I at least temp you to join us.”

Daelos turned away from the conversation, he didn’t want to be a part of it. He met the Nord’s—Ralof’s—piercing gaze with one of his own. What was it with Nord’s and blue eyes? The man was obviously trying to pick him apart. Trying to figure out who he was, why he was here, why he was with Kusek. Daelos left him to it.

He nonchalantly broke the contact, opting to pretend to study the camp. He inwardly grimaced at the gallant show that Ulfric was putting on, the grandiose speech about what he was fighting for that he probably gave every new recruit, why his cause was the better one. All he cared about was a throne for him to sit his arse on.

He knew he didn’t have to worry about Kusek falling for it. He had seen the contempt from him. Kusek didn’t like Ulfric any more than he did.

He turned around, putting his back to Kusek’s, studiously ignoring Ralof. He took a closer look around the camp. There was a prickle of unease buzzing on the back of his neck. As if someone were watching them. He looked up to where the edges of the little dell started to rise.

Daelos stumbled back into Kusek, his eyes widening.

That was when he saw them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm just going to leave this here. I know that a lot of people actually like Ulfric, but I'm honestly not fond of him. I know many of the characters that I use seem very OC, but that's the way that I see them, what I felt when interacting with them in the game. The way that I can imagine them acting. So if you like it great! If you don't, I'm sorry?


	10. Chapter 10

**Tirdas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Falkreath Stormcloak Camp**

 

“Daelos?” Kusek questioned.

They were surrounded. Why hadn’t he noticed them before? He pulled his bow from his back, and as if on cue, the arrows started flying. The camp erupted into chaos.

Kusek jerked him under the cover of some barrels, shielding him with his larger bulk. Some of the enemy soldiers started charging towards them. Kusek jumped up and ran to meet them, drawing his greatsword from his back.

The camp was in complete anarchy. Soldiers scrambling to find weapons, Ulfric bellowing orders, and the screams of the dying filling the air.

Daelos was frozen unsure of what to do, still pressed up against the barrels, bow clutched loosely in hand. He flinched when blood splattered the ground in front of him, harsh breaths filling his lungs.

There was so much blood. He hasn’t seen this much blood in one place since—since Cyrodiil. The caravan and the slavers. His once dear friends were once again lying lifeless before him.

All of a sudden, he could feel the pain and blood covering him, could hear the screams and the panic and the chaos that filled the tavern that he had once called home. He could hear Suou’s screams as he was cut down. Could see the light leaving his ruby eyes as he tried to reach him. tried to save him, but arriving too late.

His hand wrapped around his throat, curling over the scar that was there. This couldn’t be happening, not again. He curled around himself, trying to draw air into his lungs.

He could distantly hear someone call his name. No, he wasn’t there anymore. He tried to steady his breath. To bring himself back to reality. That familiar voice called out his name again.

_Kusek?_ Daelos looked in the direction he heard his voice.

He was struggling to hold off some of the enemy soldiers. Daelos was being cornered against the barrels, he realized. Kusek called out his name once more.

“Daelos! Snap out of it!”

His body moving before conscious thought, Daelos drew his bow back and let an arrow fly. It hit it’s mark in the closest man’s throat. Daelos was grabbed from behind and pulled over the top of the barrel. He let his bow drop from his grip and let his hidden blade spring free, the blade sinking into the woman’s eye.

Another soldier tried to pin him against the barrels, but Daelos brought up his knees and kicked the man in the chest, throwing him back. He quickly sprung up form the barrels and landed on him, slicing his throat.

A loud battle cry sounded next to him. Turning to meet the soldier, Daelos ran at him and ducked underneath his sword, jabbing him in the ribs, the blade going straight to his heart. Drawing one of his daggers he met the blade of another. Using his momentum, he spun left around the soldier and sunk his dagger into the back of the man’s neck.

It wasn’t long until he was surrounded once again. Daelos spotted Kusek across the camp, he was equally surrounded. His eyes darted left and right, trying to find a way to get to his companion. There were so many Imperials. Most of the camp’s residents were either already dead or subdued.

More and more were starting to surround him. So he fought. Fought and stabbed, hacked and slashed.

He was covered in so much blood he couldn’t tell whether it was his own or another’s. He could hardly think, adrenaline and instinct ruling his body and thoughts. They seemed to be never ending. When he cut down one, two more were there to replace them.

He was starting to get tired, a long gash on his left bicep dripping dark blood on the ground. But he couldn’t stop now. Most of them were now focusing on him; the biggest danger, the biggest threat. He knew if he stopped now he was dead.

So he kept fighting. He kept fighting until all thought and reason left him entirely. He fought until he couldn’t remember who he was or why he was fighting. He let his growing rage fuel him.

There was some reason he was fighting, wasn’t there? Some reason to keep living. Someone to keep living for. But he couldn’t remember anymore. So he kept fighting, hoping to remember why.

After cutting down so many he lost count, he finally met his match; a large Imperial man, whom Daelos, somewhere in his blood crazed mind, vaguely recognized from his nightmares. He grabbed him by his throat and threw him to the ground as if he weighed nothing. Daelos struggled to get up, his mind screaming at him to keep fighting, but the Imperial threw him back to the ground, kicking his dagger away. Pinning him to the ground, he brought his sword down against the side of Daelos’ head and everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Tullius signaled his men to set up a perimeter around the Stormcloak camp. When everything was ready, they would launch their attack. An informant of his had reason to believe Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of this gods dammed rebellion, would be in this very camp at this very moment.

They were seventy men strong. They would have this camp taken over in no time.

Tullius watched the camp as his men got into position.

_There he is._ Ulfric was in the center of the camp, talking to some of his men. The rest of the men were settling down, setting up tents and getting food in order. He spotted a blond Nord with another man with red hair that vaguely reminded him of his lieutenant, Hadvar, and a dark figure he had never thought he would see again.

_Raithe? How is this possible? He should be dead._

There was no misrecognizing that one. His face was shrouded in shadow, but the glint of blue peeking out from under the hood, his stature, the way he held himself. There was no mistake.

The elf had been part of a gang of thieves in the Imperial City in Cyrodiil. They had been stirring up trouble in the city for years, thieving and killing their way around. They had caused a lot of mayhem. Tullius had been sent there to take them out. He had cut the elf’s throat himself. _So how is he still alive?_

No matter. They would take him out with the rest of them soon enough.

When his men got into position, they attacked. The camp erupted into chaos.

It didn’t take long to either kill or subdue everyone. Tullius now stood in front of the red headed Nord who had reminded him of Hadvar; he even had the same deep-sea blue eyes. Were they related perhaps?

He turned when he heard a scream. Raithe was still fighting. No one had been able to take him down yet. He had this wild, yet focused look in his eyes. Tullius had seen the same look before, on the faces of his own men. They either kept fighting until they were cut down or until they had no one left to fight. The battle rage it was called.

He was reminded of when they first met. Raithe had had this calm, dangerous air around him that had made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He had infiltrated that guild to get information on its members. He had hated when he had to interact with him.

While he had been interacting with the other members, he hadn’t felt the violence that he had expected. Some of them were actually quite interesting to be around. They had almost seemed like a family. He was disappointed when he had received the order.

When they had stormed that tavern, after he had cut down those two twins, the elf had screamed at him, and started cutting down his men like they were nothing, and then went after him. He had never seen such a look of rage and betrayal on someone’s face before.

“Is-Is that really him?” the Nord asked with fear lacing his words, almost disbelieving.

He looked back down. The young Nord had clearly been talking to himself, but he still asked, “You befriended Raithe without knowing what he is?”

“Raithe…?” Confusion crossed the red head’s face.

Tullius turned when he heard yet another scream. The elf has nearly taken out almost half of his men. Enough was enough. It was clear that none of them would be able to take him down.

Raithe was standing in a sea of bodies and blood, his men circling him, hesitating to attack after he had killed so many.

Tullius advanced towards him, drawing his sword, but leaving it in its scabbard. He wasn’t going to kill him. Yet. He wanted answers. He wanted to know how the elf was still alive.

Raithe turned to face him, recognition and rage flashing through his blue fire colored eyes. He was splattered with blood from head to toe, his skin and blue-black hair stained with it.

The elf launched himself at him without warning. He jumped into the air aiming his daggers at Tullius’ head. He brought his sword up to meet his attack. Raithe landed on him, balancing against his sword. Tullius grunted, taking his weight. The elf was heavier than he looked.

He threw him off, Raithe doing a backflip and aiming a kick at his head. He used his sword to block, turning the sword to try to twist his leg, but Raithe twisted, cleanly evading and landing catlike a few feet away. Raithe stalked him in a half circle, his lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines in a guttural snarl that sounded more beast than humanoid. _All reason’s left him_ , Tullius thought, preparing himself for the next onslaught.

Raithe charged him again, daggers leading. Tullius took a chance and caught his right wrist. He brought his sword down against his arm, making him drop the dagger. Then he punched him in the face, causing him to stumble back. He quickly grabbed the elf by the throat and threw him against the ground. He kicked him back down when he tried to rise, kicking his other dagger away and stepping on his left wrist. He pinned Raithe down, hitting him in the side of the head and knocking him out.

Tullius breathed out a sigh of relief when Raithe lay there unconscious. He checked his side, at the slice in his armor. That was close. The elf had nearly gutted him when he had tried to catch his arm. He was lucky.

“Bind him up,” he ordered. “And check him thoroughly for any more weapons. He surely has them. I don’t want him escaping.”


End file.
